What Lies Beyond the Walls, Book II: Betrayal
by abstow89
Summary: The only thing worse than enemies waiting at the gate, is a snake lying dormant in your garden.
1. Destiny

**What Lies Beyond the Walls: Book 2**

 **A/N: I'm finally back at it. After more planning and taking various situations into thought, I've finally begun Book II of the series. Now, just like Book I, I am not sugar-coating or censoring anything. That means this Book** _ **will**_ **contain sex, rape, lots of death and gore, and plenty of situations that some readers may find uncomfortable in general. And plenty of various lewd or disgusting situations (those of you who've read Book I probably know what I'm talking about :p). Those of you new to the series should check out Book I first, since I don't plan on doing any form of recaps. But anyway, that's enough for this little intro. Let's get on to the story, shall we?**

 **XXV**

 **Destiny**

Such tall creatures they were. Giant, massive beasts covered in black and white fur. He could see one of them looking down at him, smiling, while the other kept laughing and scratching or poking at him. The smaller creature grunted and panted, moving his large furry paws around and kicking at the air.

"Feisty one, isn't he?"

The small creature let out a snarling noise, reaching up as if he wanted to grab something, snatch it away from the beast holding it. The female beast laughed as she looked over at the male one.

"He got that from you, dear."

The small creature sniffed and snarled again, still lashing his burly paws around. He blinked and started to move his body, hoping to get on the ground.

"Hold still, darling. You're not ready to walk yet."

"You sure about that? Not even a full season and he's got his father's temper, his mother's kindness…"

The small creature grunted and mumbled as the female beast brought him over to the male one. The babe blinked and looked up at the male beast, not long before he started to grunt and snarl, curling his fingers.

"Look at him. Look at how big he already is."

The tall female creature chuckled. "Seems like he has his father's appetite too."

The small creature grunted and started to move his paws around again, with the larger creature occasionally poking him on the muzzle to see what he would do. The babe would lift a paw and try to whack the larger creature's finger away, only for him to move it back half a second early.

"He'll make a fine leader someday…"

* * *

The badger was sitting down for once. Not walking, not fighting, and not screaming. Urthquake blinked before he rubbed the blue stripe on his head. A few strands of fur fell from his body onto the soft soil. Urthquake looked at his broadsword and axe, moments before looking down at his blue armor. He stared at it, mesmerized by all the scratches, by how dull it was beginning to look, by all the dried-up blood stains he never washed off. And then the badger looked at his arms and legs, only to notice similar scars and tears on his flesh. He thought he'd be relaxed, sitting here in such a peaceful state. He thought the sunny day and the fresh air would make him feel content. But he only felt exhausted now, tired. He felt like a sword that had been dulled after somebeast struck it against a tree too much. Urthquake looked out into the distance and away from his damaged body and armor. He blinked again and took a long breath. And then Urthquake started to look around, examining the safe, beautiful environment.

It was late in the spring now. Most of the trees and bushes had fully bloomed. Urthquake could already see a pear tree a few yards ahead, the pears all brightly green and ready to be plucked. A butterfly fluttered its small wings, giving off a rich blue color that matched his armor and stripe. He looked down again, only this time he saw the large green leaves lying flat on the soil. He saw the brown dirt, the bits of earth still rich and flourishing due to the pleasant weather. The badger even saw a few tiny insects skittering along the ground, some ants transferring food back to their colony. Urthquake almost found himself smiling, especially when he heard a few birds tweeting in the distance and what sounded like a woodpecker poking at tree bark. The wind blew gently across his face again, carrying the scent of the warm spring afternoon. Urthquake flared his nostrils and started to smile. He was just starting to enjoy the comforting sights and the serenity of the area when a different smell filled his lungs. Blood. Death. The smell of some creature that hadn't bathed in a few weeks. The sound of flies buzzing around furiously started to fill the badger's ears. When Urthquake looked down, he could see a small trail of blood slowly moving through the soil, washing over the ants like a slow-moving mudslide.

Urthquake turned and reached behind the tree, grabbing the dead body and dragging it in front of him. He looked down at the corpse, gazing at the fallen weasel with his eyes half-open, his clothes ripped and torn, and his stomach cut open. The blue-striped badger started to grimace, his smile twitching as he gazed at the corpse. He looked back up at the sky, the shining sun and the beautiful plants all around him. And then he looked back down at the decaying body, the rotten pile of flesh that was soiling the dirt. Urthquake smiled and let out a soft laugh. He grabbed the weasel's head and turned it. And then, without even grunting, he broke the beast's jaw. The badger's ears twitched as he heard the joints pop, the mandible stuck at an awkward angle. He stuck a giant paw into the open mouth and grabbed the tongue. Using very little effort, he slowly moved his paw upwards, the tongue squelching as it was removed from the mouth. Urthquake stared at the long organ and blinked before he tossed it aside. Still smiling, the badger looked at the open stomach wound and stared at some of the bugs crawling inside.

The badger grabbed the weasel's exposed ribs, digging his paws deep into the wound. He grunted twice before he jerked his paws apart, breaking the dead creature's chest open. The ribs cracked so noisily that the bone-shattering sound nearly echoed. Urthquake kept smiling as he stared at the bones and the juicy organs with blood and other fluids still smothering the insides. The Badger Lord was about to start sticking his paws into the opening when he saw the weasel's eyes. He gazed at the yellowish, half-open orbs and blinked. And then the Badger Lord jammed a thumb into each eye socket, listening to his fingers as they destroyed the eyeballs. There was a soft squish and faint pop; the badger could feel the fluids oozing around his thumbs. He kept digging his thumbs inside until he nearly felt the brain. Urthquake kept shoving his fingers deep inside until there was another subtle squish. Then the Badger Lord pulled his fingers away and sighed heavily. He glanced back at the exposed chest cavity and blinked as he began to stick his large paws inside.

"M'lord?"

Urthquake stopped and blinked. He turned to his right and saw the plump major standing beside the tree, his red coat glittering with medals.

"Hello, Major."

"U-um…" Major Fenson blinked as he glared at the corpse. "Wot are you doin', sah?"

Urthquake was still smiling as he turned away and looked back down at the weasel's body. He stuck his paws into the chest and started to grab the intestinal lining.

"Enjoying myself. I figured it was time for me to relax, try to wind down a bit."

The major watched as the badger started to pull out the weasel's intestines, with blood splashing on Urthquake's armor and face. Then the badger grabbed a portion of the large intestines, twisted it several times, and flinched when the intestines popped off and splashed some more blood on the badger's face.

"What is it, Major?"

"I-I was…it's just another update, sah. We're still low on supplies and medicine, but Hollis is doin' his best to conserve it all. Some more hares are getting sick—allergies, some bug goin' around too since I've noticed a few cases of the trots."

"And the Red Sand tribe?"

"Well, 'sides these scouts we've been killin', we haven't found a clear trail to follow just yet."

"Not good enough. We should've found that tribe days ago. Who knows how many allies they have by now? The last thing we need is to run into pirates or thieves, or for all we know, some wolverine…"

"We've already come up with a plan, sah. We're gonna keep following this route for now—we're bound to find another Red Sand clan member soon. The second we do, we'll capture him or her, keep 'em prisoner, question 'em."

Urthquake nodded. "Good." The badger turned and faced the major. "Anything else?"

The Badger Lord watched as the hare shook his head. He could practically smell the nervousness brewing from the long-eared beast.

"Um…n-no, m'lord."

Urthquake nodded and smiled again. "Try to relax yourself, Major. After all…"

Urthquake grunted as he jammed a fist inside the cadaver, crushing one of the organs to a mushy pulp.

"It's such a beautiful day."

* * *

The weasel gurgled after the ferret sliced his neck open. His body twirled before it collapsed to the ground, the weasel choking on his own crimson. The ferret who slew him breathed heavily, panting as he carried his cutlass in one paw and hatchet in the other. He turned around, looking at the rest of the corsairs who were either panting or grasping their weapons firmly, scratched and bloodied after tangling with the group of foes. Then the ferret blinked and exhaled as he lowered his two weapons and stared at the huts and oversized boulders.

"You c'n all come outta hidin' now!" Kurwin shouted.

The ferret chuckled as he wiped some of the blood off his face and observed the various groups of otters, mice, and even a few rabbits slowly emerging from their well-crafted wood and straw huts. Some of them looked old enough to be heading for the Dark Forest; others were young and only recently learned how to walk. Kurwin watched with a sly grin as the goodbeasts all started to come closer to him, although many of them looked queasy from the grisly scene around them.

"Now, now, no need t'worry! Yer ole mate Kurwin an' his corsairs took care of the nasty li'l Cleavers for ya!"

Kurwin glared at his first mate, Traegar, and the weasel and ferret both grinned at each other before the leader of the group of woodlanders walked towards the pirate.

"Y…you slew 'em all?"

"Every last beast, sah! I'm sure you an' yer colony will sleep much better tonight!"

"I…" The rabbit swallowed hard. "I-I thought you were gonna talk to 'em…scare 'em off."

"We've been doin' this a looooong time, Malley," said Traegar. "You don't 'talk' to beasts like the Cleavers an' expect 'em to leave you alone."

"…Thank you. I…I don't know how we could—"

Kurwin held up a paw. "It's no trouble, mate. We saw some poor beasts in trouble an' wanted to help!"

One of the members in the group of goodbeasts couldn't stand listening to the ferret talking. She gritted her teeth and stepped forward, her rudder slapping against the ground with anger.

"Like you helped out the MSB? Like you helped out all those beasts you flayed in the past?! How many beasts have you tortured an' slain before today—you think we're jus' gonna forget about that?!"

The otter turned around and started to pant as she talked loudly. "This pirate is Kurwin the _Flayer_! Don't any of you lot know what that means?! He skins his victims alive fer sport! He's been roamin' the seas fer many seasons now, slaughterin' anybeast in his path! Why should we even _think_ to trust him now—especially after what happened to those innocent squirrels?!"

Kurwin looked around at the goodbeasts and could hear faint chatter and saw some beasts looking at each other with concern. But the ferret merely smiled and placed his weapons in his waistsash.

"Yes, that is all true. I have slain many beasts in the past. An' I earned my flayer title fer a reason. Quite frankly, I think it suits me."

"See?! The scoundrel even admits it!"

The scarred ferret started to walk around the group of goodbeasts, pacing slowly as he wagged his tail. "Of course I admit it. Why would I lie to all you kind beasts? The truth is that I've slain dozens of beasts in my time. Some pirates, some thieves—I even brought down a warlord's glorious empire! An' sure, yeah, I slew some woodlanders here an' there, helpless otters who were tryin' t'flee from me, even small babes who were huggin' their parents' legs, hopin' to make the 'mean ferret' go away."

Kurwin could see more goodbeasts growing cautious of him. Some of them were backing up or turning away from him, shaking as they tried to avoid his line of sight. The pirate snickered as he kept pacing around.

"But I assure you, I've changed my ways! There's no need for senseless slaughter—wot good would it do slayin' beasts like you? It's better t'make friends than enemies—that's somethin' I had to learn the hard way. An' wot better friends to make than all you precious, helpful beasts?"

The otter shook her head. "No. Y-you're lyin'! This is all some ruse to make us lower our guard! You say you changed yer ways? Then explain what happened with the MSB over a week ago!"

Kurwin sighed heavily and rubbed his chin. "They attacked first. My corsairs and I were just walking around this forest, taking in the beautiful scenery, when those squirrels ambushed us. Three of my pirates were near the river mindin' their own business—on of 'em was takin' a shit. You wanna know wot those squirrels did? They fired arrows at 'em—hit one of my pirates in the arse! Now, I thought it were jus' a misunderstanding—that tends to happen a lot, right? So I had one of my senior captains—Stinkfoot—try to talk to 'em, tell 'em to back off. They refused. An' like my first mate just told yer leader here, we knew deep down that talkin' wouldn't work."

Kurwin grinned widely. "So we killed 'em all."

"And then you skinned most of 'em an' hung their bodies from the trees like common game!"

"To send a message. If the MSB is smart, they'll stay away from me an' my corsairs for good. Y'see, I'm also known for my temper, an' if you push me far enough, the consequences could be dire. You don't fuck with me, I won't fuck with you. It's that simple."

"And what happens on the day where you start fucking with us first?"

Kurwin slowly stepped towards the otter. Kurwin didn't realize until he stood within inches of her that she was a few inches taller than he was. He glanced up into the otter's eyes and smirked.

"There is absolutely _nothing_ stoppin' me from fuckin' you. D'you know that? If I wanted to, I could shove you to the ground right now, lift that pretty li'l gown of yours up, exposing that moist cunt of yers. I could pin ya down, thrust my way into ya as you scream fer help. But nobeast will help you. All my corsairs will be busy rapin' and killin' the rest of the goodbeasts in this area. An' then, after I fill you with my seed, I'll stick my knife into a fire, then use it to slice that cunt of yours in half. You'll never know wot it feels like to have another cock inside of you without feeling my pain ever again."

The otter didn't back away or break out into a fit of sweats, but she had nothing else to say to the ferret. Kurwin grinned as he saw the beast's mouth twitch—she wanted to say something, even a small swear word. But nothing would come out. Kurwin folded his arms before he backed away.

"But like I said, I've changed my ways! There's not a single beast here who'll have t'worry 'bout Kurwin murderin' their babes!"

Malley finally started to chime in. "H-how do we know we can still trust you? How can we be sure this isn't some kind of trick?"

Kurwin chuckled as he walked towards the rabbit. "You don't know. That's the beauty of it! But before you write me off as another scoundrel who should be sent to the Hellgates, remember this: there are _lots_ of other vermin tribes out there. There's _lots_ of clans like the Cleavers, terrible beasts spawned straight from the Hellgates who do nothing but rape an' kill fer sport. There may come a day where you run into another, deadlier group of beasts like the Cleavers. An' if you choose not to put your trust in me, then yer good ol' friend Kurwin the Flayer won't be there t'pull yer arses outta the fire."

Kurwin grinned widely as he saw the long-eared beast frown. "Li'l somethin' t'think about before you go to sleep tonight."

The ferret whistled shrilly before he raised his paw and waved at his crew. "ALL A' YA! GET YOUR WEAPONS AN' MOVE OUT! WE'RE DONE HERE!"

Some of the pirates began to cheer or shouted out Kurwin's name for a brief moment, chanting as they looked upon their leader. The ferret flashed another nasty grin at Malley and the otter before he joined his group of vermin, the steadily growing army stomping along the ground and away from the pile of dead bodies they left. As the cheering and chanting began to die down, Traegar hurried over to Kurwin and snickered as he walked beside him.

"Think ya did that quite well, Cap'n! Not sure if it was wise to reveal all that stuff you've done in the past though."

"No point in lyin', Trae. They prob'ly knew anyways an' wanted t'see if I had the balls to admit it. Nowadays, beasts want a truthful leader who admits his errors rather than a hypocritical twat who keeps performin' misdeeds beneath his followers' noses."

Traegar nodded. "Can't argue with that!"

Kurwin flicked his eyes to his left and could see a filthy gray searat walking beside him scowling. Kurwin frowned and snorted, not even bothering to look at the beast.

"Somethin' you gotta say, Dirtfoot?"

"Oh no, not at all, Cap'n. If I jus' saw a male spread his legs an' show everybeast that there were a cunt 'tween his legs an' not a cock, I'd be speechless too."

"Don't you fuckin' start, Dirtfoot," growled Traegar.

"Wot?! I just tell it like it is! You've been hidin' that juicy hole from us all along! Didn't see it 'til just now!"

Kurwin turned and spat in front of Dirtfoot. The rat yelped when he stepped in the glob of saliva and started to walk slowly. The rat and ferret both looked at each other with scowls on their faces, while Traegar stuck close to Kurwin, his paw already near his knife.

"You got a problem with me, you tell somebeast straight up! We don't need your constant sarcasm an' other bullshit weighin' us down!"

Dirtfoot snorted. "You know I hate this fuckin' plan. Allyin' ourselves with those-those fuckin' landlubbers?! How fuckin' stupid are ye, Cap'n?! It's bad enough we ain't got no ships—we're out in the middle o' this fuckin' cesspool of a forest—we've already lost o'er forty beasts—"

"How's 'bout I cut out your tongue an' end this senseless blether for good?" growled Traegar.

"How's 'bout I cut off yore balls an' shove 'em down yer gullet?!"

Kurwin snarled. "I'm more'n capable of defending myself, Trae! As fer you, Dirtfoot, yer even dumber than I thought you was. I'm not makin' friends with those fuckin' landlubbers!"

"Really, Cap'n? Then wot are ye doin'?"

Kurwin grinned. "Makin' slaves. We just saved all those beasts from peril. We showed them mercy. An' we're not forcin' them to do anythin' they don't wanna do."

"So fuckin' wot?" asked Dirtfoot.

"You can rule with a fist, or rule with your brain. There is nothin' more satisfying than manipulation, Dirtfoot. Most of us vermin, they think that brute force, things like shouting, threatenin' to kill somebeast, rape and wotnot—they think that gives 'em power. But it doesn't. If you beat an' rape yer slaves, they get tired. An' wot use do you have for a sore, broken down slave? But if you're kind to 'em, protect them, let 'em know you actually give a shit, they'll have no problem lendin' you a paw when you desperately need it. You beat yer slaves, kill 'em, hurt 'em, torment them—sooner or later, they rebel an' kill you. But if you're kind an' caring, make sure they're safe an' well-fed, they'll be yer servants for life. Tell me, wot happens when you give a well-treated servant a weapon?"

"They use it t'shave their hairy arse."

"They fight for you, ya dumb shit!" barked Trae.

Kurwin nodded. "Exactly. Sentiment. That's these beasts' weakness. You show enough of it, an' they'll bend over an' let you fuck 'em raw and bloody. With the right words and a few 'favours' here an' there, I can get all these 'goodbeasts' to be on my side. I c'n make 'em fight for me, make my army grow!"

"Hmph. Sure, good luck with that," sneered Dirtfoot.

"You still don't seem convinced."

The gray rat faced Kurwin and blinked. "An apple that dyes itself orange is still an apple."

"But if you stay dyed long enough, when the oranges finally find out that you've been an apple all along, they won't care."

"An' wot happens when we come across the oranges that are smart enough to realize you've been a murderous, conniving, cold-blooded apple all along?"

Kurwin grinned. "Some oranges rot faster than others. They'll serve no purpose in my empire besides being squashed. Besides…sooner or later, beasts will realize that they can live in a world with apples _and_ oranges."

"What about strawberries?" Traegar chimed in.

Kurwin looked at his first mate and frowned. "Now you're just confusin' me."

* * *

Tegast leaned against the tree bark and sighed heavily. The rat looked down at the ground while the watervole tried his best not to breathe. The rat was starting to get irritated now. It seemed like they couldn't go a full day without running into some kind of lizard or snake or other menacing reptile that posed a threat to them. Tegast blinked and leaned to his left, glancing down at the ground once he heard the sound of footsteps growing softer. But then the rodent heard a vicious snarl and raspy laughter down below, and the rat proceeded to lean against the tree and shut his eyes.

"How much longer?"

Grustur blinked as he continued to observe the reptiles. "We should prob'ly wait 'til nightfall. And keep your voice down!" whispered the vole.

"We've been up here hidin' on the same branch for almost an hour. If they were gonna spot us, it woulda happened by now."

Grustur shook his head. "You never know with these lizards. Gotta be them monitors again—we keep runnin' into 'em!"

"Can't be. I woulda smelled their breath all the way up here by now."

Grustur chuckled. "Good point. Still, best we wait. Last lizards we ran into tried to skin us alive."

"An' those dark blue newts with all them white an' black spots drugged us and nearly ate us alive."

Grustur sighed. "We're slippin' up, Teg. We gotta find a different route or…"

Tegast blinked. "Or wot?"

"Or we find the Guosim. We're not far from River Moss; Log-a-Log controls the waters 'round here. If we pair ourselves with the Guosim, maybe we'll be able to hold off the lizards for a while—at least until we find a safe place to stay. You know about the Guosim, yeah?"

"Yeah. That's why yore idea doesn't make any sense. Yore a watervole—I'm a fuckin' rat! Wot d'you think they're gonna do to us the second they see us? They're either gonna think we're bandits or spies for some bigger army! Hell, they might think we're on the lizards' side!"

Grustur smirked. "There's two paths you can take to get to your destination. Path A will lead you through shark-infested waters. Path B will lead you through a vast gorge that can only be crossed with a rickety bridge composed entirely of rope. Which path do you take?"

"Path C."

Grustur raised an eyebrow. "Path C?"

"The path that leads to me turning the fuck around an' searching for a new destination altogether."

The watervole snickered. "I like the way you're thinkin'. But no, Teg. We take the path least likely to get us killed. An' right now, I see no other option besides findin' the Guosim and havin' some shrews help us drive these lizards away."

"Again, Path C. Why not travel _away_ from the lizards? Avoid 'em entirely?"

"Look at 'em, pup. Look at how many are down there. We _can't_ avoid them any longer."

Tegast peeked down at the ground again and stared at all the ravenous beasts. He couldn't make out all the lizards—some were moving too quickly to notice. Some lizards were thin; others were tall and burly. Some were short and had colorful scales; others were a dull shade of brown and had thick tails. Many lizards were clothed in tattered rags, but just as many were naked, showing off their scars and other assets for the world to see. The rat's ears started to lower when he noticed how many lizards kept walking by. He tried counting them in his head—twenty, twenty-seven, thirty-two, forty—he lost count after fifty-four. And everytime he thought he spotted the last group of lizards, more would follow. All of them were hissing, slobbering, chewing and laughing, most likely devouring the flesh from their victims' bodies. The noisome scent the reptiles carried was enough to put a vermin army to shame. Tegast and Grustur had grown used to it, but now, the foul smell was creeping into the rat's mouth; he found himself gagging a few times whenever the wind blew in his direction.

"This is serious, Grus."

Grustur nodded. "I know, pup. At the rate we're going, it won't be long—"

"No, I mean…this is an army. There's no way this many lizards would be travelin' in one direction at one time. And they're not…Grus, wot were you sayin' about Isle Glinsun?"

"That if we don't find a tribe for you to join, we'll head there."

Tegast pressed his head against the tree and huffed. "Let's head there now. How far away is it?"

"It's across the sea, Teg."

"Then let's find a boat. We c'n go there now—be there by the summer, right?"

"No. Isle Glinsun is our _last_ option. It's the 'fuckin' 'ell, we're neck deep in badger shit now!' option."

"Wot about lizard shit? Is Mossflower even safe anymore? These lizards could wipe out the Guosim in a day if they wanted to! D'you seriously think they'll be able to help us?"

"Trust me; Log-a-Log is no pushover, and neither are his shrews. They can take care of a few lizards."

"This isn't a few, Grus! This is a fuckin' army, an' we don't know how many there are!"

"Log-a-Log doesn't need to slay every single reptile, y'know. If the Guosim kill enough of 'em, they'll back off. An' if they leave the Guosim alone, they'll get scared, realize that stayin' in Mossflower is too dangerous for 'em. They'll head back to whatever island they came from and never bother us again."

Tegast started to breathe heavily. "I…you didn't see, Grustur. Those monitors…they're not like normal reptiles. I stared down a fuckin' milk snake an' killed it with no trouble; these-these monitors…it's like starin' at pure evil, like some demon resurrected from the depths of the Hellgates."

Grustur smirked. "Like I said, Teg, if it gets bad enough, we'll head straight for Isle Glinsun."

"You promise?"

The vole nodded. "Promise."

Tegast blinked and looked down at the lizards again. "Okay."

* * *

The shrew had it all figured out. It was going to work perfectly. All his plans would come together, so long as he didn't screw anything up. It was finally dark. Most of the shrews were sleeping, except for the ones who were busy patrolling the area. Nobeast would see him. And if they did, he'd deal with them too. Jurlick grinned very slowly, his body concealed by all the darkness and the trees. He could see Menryl now, the shrew completely inebriated after he decided to share drinks with the beast. Jurlick blinked and looked around the woods, hearing the crickets chirping and a few bugs buzzing around the ground. Some beasts were chattering, probably talking about the Guosim's next move. Jurlick didn't care. All that mattered right now was Menryl. He walked over to the drunken shrew with a blue headband on and crouched down. Menryl was snorting and gurgling in his sleep, with a small pool of saliva simmering inside his half-open mouth. He smacked his lips and muttered something in his sleep before he exhaled and started snorting again. Jurlick snickered as he poked Menryl a few times, causing the shrew to snort and open one eye.

"J…Jurlick? Wotcha—"

Jurlick took out his concealed dagger and stabbed Menryl in the side of his neck. The shrew snickered as he heard the blade piercing the flesh. Menryl's eyes grew wide, and the saliva in his mouth was quickly replaced with blood. He coughed twice and started to gasp, having trouble breathing. Jurlick watched as the beast continued to gurgle loudly, gasping and choking on his own blood. The shrew slyly raised a paw and covered Menryl's mouth with it, muffling the beast's seemingly raucous shouts. Menryl's head bobbed up and down a few times as the beast tried to fight back. But the blood was gushing out of the shrew's neck fast, leaving a small puddle of red fluids near his head. Jurlick removed the dagger and stabbed him in the neck again, listening to the soft squish as he dug into the flesh again. Menryl let out a soft, gurgled moan and stopped moving. He blinked twice as he spat up more blood against Jurlick's paw. And then his head tilted over, and Menryl lay very still. Jurlick removed the dagger and raised his now bloody paw. Still grinning, Jurlick moved away from Menryl's corpse, crouching as he walked so nobeast would see him.

He walked for another minute before he stumbled upon another drunken shrew with a yellow headband. Jurlick breathed as quietly as possible; the shrew was more inebriated than Menryl. He had a broken bottle of rum in one paw and he smelled like he was sleeping in his own vomit.

"Yore makin' this all too easy fer me, Tileer," muttered Jurlick.

The shrew held in his laughter as he slyly grabbed the top of the bottle and pried it from Tileer's fingers. Tileer snorted and mumbled in his sleep, flexing his fingers, wondering where his precious bottle of fluids disappeared too. As Tileer blindly tried to grab something, Jurlick lowered the dagger just far enough so the shrew would clutch it. Once Tileer grabbed hold of the weapon, the shrew stopped mumbling and moving. He sighed deeply and went back to sleep, while Jurlick shook his head, marveled by the shrew's stupidity. He reached over and wiped the blood off his paw by using Jurlick's tunic as a rag; the last thing he needed was something to contradict his story. Jurlick retreated over to the river and washed off the rest of the blood remaining on his paw. And then he returned to the Guosim campsite and went back to sleep, snickering to himself.

* * *

"Wot part o' that don't ye understand?!" shouted the black fox.

"The part where we start bendin' o'er lettin' these goodbeasts tell us wot t'do!" responded the gray rat.

Kurwin couldn't tell what was bothering him more: the large argument going on between all of his senior captains, or the sound of the crickets chirping that occasionally ruined any moments of peace and quiet he got inside the tent. The ferret was standing up with his arms folded, constantly flicking his eyes back and forth as one group of vermin shouted at the other. Ishlin was threatening and walking up towards beasts, hoping to intimidate them with his large body; Kronno and Dirtfoot were constantly snapping at each other; Stinkfoot and Glud were trying to calm everybeast down; Muslar was busy shifting his eyes around and backing up Dirtfoot with anything the rat said. Kurwin was waiting for the right time, hoping that one beast would offer good advice—something they could all agree upon.

"These woodlanders aren't gonna believe 'im! Don't any of you fuckin' twats understand that?!"

"The only twat in 'ere, Dirtfoot, is you. An' wot the Cap'n says goes; if he says gettin' woodlanders t'be our slaves is a good idea, then so be it!" snarled Kronno.

"Like how it were a good idea t'take on the MSB? How many beasts we lose that day again? Nearly twoscore, weren't it?"

"Wot we need—"

"Shut up, Glud!"

Stinkfoot glared at Dirtfoot and scowled. "Wot we need is for everybeast t'stop shoutin' like fuckin' idiots! How hard is it to stand in 'ere an' come up with a solution we all agree upon? Frankly, I think Kurwin's right. Let's be kind to these beasts—they'll let their guard down, won't they? An' if they do that, they'll be easier to control. We show 'em a little compassion—"

"We show 'em compassion an' they'll think we're weak! They're gonna stab us in the fuckin' back when we least expect it!"

The black fox looked over at the giant stoat inside the tent and rubbed her nose. "Yore awfully quiet 'bout all this. Wot's yore take on Kurwin's idea, Ishlin?"

Ishlin scoffed. "I'm with Dirtfoot! Who gives a fuck 'bout 'compassion' an' 'sentiment' an' all this other shit? 'Do wot we say and we won't jam a sword up yore arse!' These woodlanders are pushovers—show 'em some force an' they'll listen to us!"

"These 'pushovers' are responsible for slayin' _thousands_ of us vermin over the past several generations. _Thousands_ , Ishlin! You wanna be on the long, tall list of vermin who tried to take over this forest an' fucked it up an' got themselves killed?" asked Stinkfoot.

Ishlin grinned. "Wot I want is another fuckin' drink! Where's that bottle of rum…"

Kronno sighed and rolled her eyes. "Where's Fleckle Mard? I wanna 'ear wot he thinks 'bout all this."

"He's busy holdin' his own council with wot's left of his clan. Lately there's been chatter 'bout the Juskamard clan leavin' and goin' their own way," said Traegar.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh, great! That's just fuckin' _wonderful_! So Dead-Eye was slain fer no fuckin' reason! We lost a good tracker jus' t'get the fuckin' clan t'join us, an' now they're already thinkin' about leavin'!" shouted Dirtfoot.

"I said they're discussing it! They haven't made a final vote yet!"

"We already know how it's gonna go down," said Muslar. "Them cowardly fucks are gunna go back t'sittin' on their fat arses and lazing about 'til some goodbeasts slay 'em all in their sleep!"

"Okay, wot's yore brilliant plan then, Dirtfoot? Since you hate Kurwin's plan so fuckin' much, _please_ , tell us wot ye think is the better solution 'ere!" shouted Kronno.

"Simple. We go back t'sea—"

"Fer fuck's sake…" groaned Kronno.

Dirtfoot snorted when he saw a few other beasts groaning or looking at him with scowls. He ignored them all and raised his voice.

"We build a ship, go back t'sea, find more pirates t'ally ourselves with! We repair broken relationships, gain control of the seas again! We show everybeast on the ocean that they don't fuck with Kurwin the Flayer! Then, after we've conquered every sea an' every isle known to beast, we head back to Mossflower an' take over this forest!"

"Sounds like a reasonable idea. It really does," said Stinkfoot. "Only problem is that it'll take a few _lifetimes_ before we control the seas! Over half of us will be dead or on our way towards the Hellgates before that happens!" shouted Stinkfoot.

"An' you think takin' over Mossflower won't take as long as well?! You think o'er half of us won't be dead by the time we control these woods?!"

"So wot d'you think—"

Everybeast stopped talking after hearing the sudden thwack against the ground. All the vermin glanced down and noticed Kurwin's hatchet lodged into the soil, not far from Ishlin and Dirtfoot's footpaws. Kurwin was staring at his captain and breathing heavily, scowling as he gazed at everybeast in the tent.

"Shut. Your fuckin'. Mouths."

The ferret slowly began to walk in the middle of the group; Ishlin, Dirtfoot and Kronno stood on one side, while Stinkfoot, Glud and Muslar stood on the other. All of the vermin could practically feel the anger coming from the captain and knew it was wise to keep their mouths shut.

"I did not raise babes in this crew. We do not have these meetings fer the sake of whinin' an' shoutin' as much as we can. We have problems. We run into issues. So we 'discuss' 'em until we all agree on somethin'. But we do not stand here an' fuckin' scream at each other like we don't have any fuckin' sense! Is that clear?!"

"Yes, Cap'n," murmured a few vermin with their ears lowered and their tails limp.

Kurwin crouched down and jerked his hatchet out of the ground. "Since nobeast can be civil about this, I'll make it easy fer alla you! Now Dirtfoot, I understand yer concerns—I really do. You think I'm gonna go soft. You think those woodlanders will mistake my kindness fer a weakness."

"They will! You an' I—"

"I am not finished," Kurwin snarled. "Like it or not, wot we need right now is more soldiers! An' your way, goin' back to the seas, buildin' ships, makin' vermin allies and teamin' up with other pirates—that'll take way too long! We need more soldiers _now_ , before these goodbeasts find us an' slaughter us all!"

Kurwin rubbed his head and sighed before he turned and looked at Glud and Stinkfoot. "And Stinkfoot, yes, we're supposed to be kind to 'em. We're s'posed to be nice and do them no harm. But that's only 'cos we need 'em on our side. We need 'em to back us up whenever we find ourselves stuck in a corner. That's all they're gonna be to us: assets, nothin' more. So we're not goin'—"

Kurwin stopped talking when somebeast stomped inside the tent. The captain spun around and growled when he saw the stoic ferret with parts of his fur dyed red interrupting his speech. He was holding a struggling fox by the back of his neck.

"Wot is it, Bloodbrain?! I'm busy right now!"

"Found an intruder spying on you."

Kurwin and the others watched as Bloodbrain threw the reddish-brown fox with black paws down on the ground. The sly creature grunted after falling on his stomach and started to breathe heavily.

"Want me to kill him?"

"No, Bloodbrain; he's no threat to us," Kurwin responded.

"Then why was he spyin' on us?" Traegar asked.

Kurwin watched as the scruffy fox grunted and began to stand on his footpaws. The ferret walked over to him and reached for his flaying knife as the fox started to dust himself off.

"That's a very good question…mind explainin' yourself?"

The reddish-brown fox looked at all the pirates and smirked. "C'mon now, surely you must know of me! Every vermin 'round these parts knows about Darktail the Schemer!"

"I didn't ask your name. I asked why you've been spyin' on us!"

Darktail shrugged. "'Cos I want to."

Kurwin flicked his eyes at Bloodbrain and nodded. The red and black ferret reached for his daggers and started to walk towards the fox.

"Okay, okay, okay! You can all relax—I'm just messin' with ya!"

Bloodbrain blinked and lowered his daggers while Kurwin folded his arms and wagged his tail.

"Start talkin' then!"

Darktail started to smile slyly as he began to walk around the tent slowly, glancing at the pirates as he moved his fluffy tail around. He kept his distance from some of them, unsure of how erratic the corsairs were.

"Couldn't help but overhear 'bout your li'l problem with gaining more support! I'm sure you won't mind if I help you in making this lovely army of yours thrive beyond the lands."

"I care very little for your platitudes," Kurwin growled. "An' you're just one fox. How could you possibly help us?"

Darktail continued to smirk as he circled back around towards Kurwin. "I know of one such army that's constantly getting larger even as we speak. Y'see, I've spoken to them as well an' we had a li'l…discussion. They're more than happy to partner themselves up with a band of pirates such as yourselves! But they need you to pass a li'l test of theirs…"

"You keep sayin' 'li'l' like it's some holy word that'll shield you from arrows. Define 'li'l' fer me."

"The leader of this army needs somebeast to rescue two of his soldiers. They've both been captured by a holt of otters somewhere on the Western Coast."

"That's not my problem."

"No, but it is your solution! I know where this holt is—I've been scouting around the area. I know where the soldiers are; I know how many otters are in the holt. I can take your army there, an' together we'll free the soldiers an' slay the holt! You'll be that much closer to making your army increase tenfold!"

Kurwin started to rub his chin. "Exactly wot kind of soldiers are we lookin' for?"

"Lizards."

"Wot kind of lizards?"

Darktail continued to smirk and shrugged. Kurwin frowned and lowered his arms. "Your vagueness is beginning to irritate me. Shall I cut the words from your mouth instead?!"

Darktail kept grinning as he stepped close to Kurwin and looked him dead in his eyes. "Need I remind you that nobeast asked me to come here? Nobeast is forcin' me to tell you all this useful information. I've spent days searchin' fer you 'cos I knew you'd be interested. I didn't have to tell you a thing. I could've lied, could've tried to swindle you. I'm merely a fox tryin' to help my fellow vermin brethren take what's rightfully theirs. So you can either believe me an' let me guide you to these lizards, or you can piss away this perfectly good opportunity to strengthen your numbers. Let's see how long you'll last by the time Redwall gets wind of what you've been doin' in Mossflower."

Kurwin and Darktail continued to stare at each other. The ferret kept looking at the fox's crafty smile and the strange gaze in his eyes, as if the fox already knew what Kurwin's response was going to be. The captain felt like declining his offer just to spite him, but he knew better. As much as he wanted to do things his own way, Kurwin couldn't give up such a grand offer that fell right in his lap. He needed more soldiers. And if the soldiers didn't work out, he'd find a way to turn them into slaves. Either way, he couldn't see how this would be deleterious for his crew. So Kurwin broke out into a fit of laughter with spittle flying from his mouth and hitting Darktail in his face. He turned away and grimaced as he wiped some of the spit off. Kurwin slapped the fox on his back a few times before grinning.

"Gotta love you foxes, eh? Your species could talk yer way to a throne if ya tried hard enough!"

Darktail sighed. "So you plan on goin' through with this rescue?"

Kurwin grinned. "Why would I _not_ say yes?"


	2. Lizard Breath

**XXVI**

 **Lizard Breath**

 **A/N: The following chapter contains a male-on-male rape scene.**

The young beast was whimpering, staring at the fallen creature with teary eyes. He didn't know what happened or why. He covered his ears and shut his eyes, but he still heard. There were other, older beasts around him. He didn't like the way they looked at him, the way they sounded, the way they smelled. They all wore tattered rags—some of which barely covered their groins—and they all smelled like carrion. The young beast whimpered as he crawled forward, looking down at the felled beast.

"M…mumma?"

No response. The young beast sniffled and touched her, pressing his paws down as he started to shake her. He saw her body move when he touched her, but the creature didn't seem sentient. He didn't understand. He couldn't comprehend why there was so much blood on the floor. He didn't know why the creatures were snarling at him, ignoring him like he was a piece of trash.

"Mumma? Get…wake up, mumma. Wake—"

"SHURRUP!"

The beast shouted when one of the older, foul-smelling vermin kicked him. The young beast whimpered as he started to grab the dead beast and began to cry.

"Wake up, mumma! Why…why won't you wake up?"

The older beasts looked at the younger one and started to growl when the young beast began to cry.

"Take the li'l fucker. Wendoll'll love 'im!"

The young beast shrieked when a filthy weasel grabbed him by his head. He started to pull him backwards as the beast kicked and screamed, shouting and trying to claw away from his captors.

"Mumma! MUMMA, HELP ME!"

The young beast reached backwards and clawed at the beast's paw, drawing blood. He got free and whimpered as he crawled forward towards the body again, wondering why it lay so still. He was about to shove it again when two beasts started to kick him in the face and stomach, not stopping until he was bloody and too weak to move.

"Take 'im! Now!"

The short creature howled in pain as he was dragged by his legs across the floor. He kept crying and clawing at the wood, his claws dragging against the floor with a harsh scraping sound. But eventually the older beasts overpowered him, and they all hauled him out of his home while he was still screaming for his mother.

* * *

Kurwin's eyes shot open. The ferret started panting, his entire head covered in sweat, his heart beating faster than normal. The ferret looked all around the forest and started to calm down. Another day, he told himself. He could see the skies and trees now, the thick gray clouds blocking out any form of sunshine. His nose wiggled as he smelled the air, carrying the faint scent of rain. Kurwin grunted as he closed his eyes and started to roll over onto his back, and then he sat up. The ferret rubbed some of the sleep from his eyes before he yawned and stretched, cracking his back and smacking his lips a few times. Kurwin got to his footpaws and lazily walked around, dragging his footpaws through the dirt. Everything still seemed the same: all his pirates were still sleeping, and those who weren't were either mingling with the Juskamard tribe or touching up on their sword and archery skills. Just another casual day of trying to build his crew. The ferret stood in front of one of the trees and pulled down his trousers slightly. Then he sighed as he pointed his penis at the bark and began to micturate. Kurwin stared at the gold fluids gushing from his member, splashing along the tree and trickling down into the dirt. Then he flared his nostrils and sighed.

"You always spy on beasts takin' a piss?"

The fox hiding up in the trees groaned with frustration as he began to climb down. "How'd you even know I was up there?"

Kurwin smirked. "That's the thing about ye foxes: always got that thick scent on ya. No point in tryin' t'be sneaky when you can't even hide yer odour."

Darktail grunted as he landed on the ground, brushing some of the dirt from his clothes. "Yeah, well, not like you corsairs smell any better."

Kurwin ignored him and changed the subject. "Since you're down here, why dont'cha tell me more about these lizards I'm goin' to rescue?"

"They're reptiles."

Kurwin finished urinating and pulled his trousers back up. "No shit. I wasn't aware. So tell me more about these lizards."

Darktail shrugged. "They got scales on their bodies."

Kurwin blinked and reached for his flaying knife. He removed it from his waistsash and spat near the fox's footpaws. "I'm in no mood for these games. D'you really wanna make this more complicated than it needs to be?"

Darktail stared at the indignant ferret and slowly grinned. He walked around the ferret for a moment, examining his posture, the scars on his body, how tough the beast looked on the outside. Kurwin didn't keep his back on him for more than two seconds. He knew how easy it'd be for somebeast like Darktail to whip out a hidden dagger and shove in deep between his shoulders. The ferret blinked and faced Darktail the entire time, waiting for the fox to do something. He watched as Darktail appeared to reach down, as if he was going to retrieve something. Kurwin didn't flinch or move; he scowled, clutching the handle of his knife harder. Darktail scoffed and backed away, leaning against one of the trees.

"They're monitors. Not sure where they come from, but my guess is Sampetra."

Kurwin huffed. "Ya fuckin' me? You want my crew to ally themselves with those bloodthirsty beasts?!"

"I didn't realize a pirate who flays beasts fer a livin' has such high standards."

"They're not standards—it's common fuckin' sense! Wot do I have t'gain by fightin' alongside beasts who see me an' my crew as food?"

"Strength? Numbers? I thought that's what you wanted?"

Kurwin shook his head. "I wanna build my army, not cut it in half 'cos some nasty reptiles keep eatin' my corsairs! Wot else you know about this army?!"

Darktail shrugged. "Not much. I can't remember the leader's name—starts with a…I dunno, a T or C, I guess? Now, not all of the lizards are monitors—they're only the leader's 'special' division. Y'know, a cold-blooded group of nasty beings who can do the things the leader's regular lizards can't do."

"Ya mean like burnin' down a hut full of babes and snacking on their burnt corpses."

Darktail started to frown. "Everytime. You beasts are so fuckin' despicable, d'you know that? Everytime I come across you lot, you all see me an' think, 'Oh, it's just another bloody fox comin' along to steal our shit an' plot behind our backs!' You always think th-that yer always better'n the rest of 'em! How—just tell me. How many babes have you killed? How many homes have you burned down—how-how many families have ya ruined? Them lizards are no different than you are—they always stand there with their—with their high an' mighty attitude an' tell me, 'Oh, we got standards! We can't partner ourselves with some nasty, smelly pirates who have no honour!' But hey. Them lizards are perfectly fine havin' sadistic, cannibalistic monitor lizards in their army. Because that makes a whole lotta sense an' clearly isn't hypocritical."

Kurwin kept staring at the fox, taking everything he said to heart. The ferret made a strange noise between a cough and a grunt before he looked at Darktail, seemingly puzzled. Sure, he killed innocent beasts. Sure, he robbed from others, raped others, murdered others in cold blood. But he was better than those monitors—his crew was better than all of them. He wasn't a cannibal, and he wouldn't kill any of his crew over petty subjects like the monitors would. His crew had rules—those lizards didn't. He knew they didn't. And that's what made them so special. The ferret put his knife back into his waistsash and grinned.

"Your words have touched me; hit a part of-of my soul in a way I cannot even describe."

Darktail grinned and flared his nostrils. "And here I thought I was the snarky one."

Kurwin kept staring at the fox's smug face. He wanted to wipe it off with his knife, cut the flesh right off that long muzzle of his. But he saw no harm in humoring the vulpine for now.

"You're right, Darktail. We're all just bloodthirsty sadists lookin' out for ourselves. Least I 'ave no shame in admitting that. But we are _not_ cannibals. An' if those lizards are jus' gonna eat my crew, then even you must understand why we _can't_ work with 'em."

"Trust me, they won't," Darktail lied.

Kurwin nodded. "We're gonna go rescue those monitors, an' I'm gonna let _them_ tell me who their leader is an' wot their army is capable of."

"Sure. That, uh—I'm-I'm sure you'll be surprised."

He only saw it for a moment, but Darktail's grin faltered and came back up. The ferret wagged his tail and kept grinning, waiting to see if the fox had anything more to say or deny. But he kept his mouth shut. So the captain played along, gave in to the sly beast's offer.

"Fine then. I'll get the crew up. May as well do so now 'afore later when the rain hits."

* * *

Jurlick was standing idly by, observing all the frantic beasts as they rushed around near the river, ready to watch the trial. The shrew scratched beneath his headband and sniffed, glancing around, looking for Benrath. He wanted him to see this—he needed him here so he could see his anxiousness. It was so hard for him, so tough to keep a straight face, not to give anything away. Jurlick rolled his tongue around his mouth before he saw the chubby son of the Chieftain hurriedly walking over towards him.

"Wot the 'ell's goin' on, Jurlick? Why's my father called fer a trial?"

Jurlick shrugged. "Dunno. Must be important fer him t'wake us up this early in the morn. Let's go see!"

Jurlick started to jog alongside his new "friend," occasionally glancing at him, waiting with bated breath to see his reaction once he found out. The two shrews headed over near the river bank where most of the logboats and the Chieftain's large hut were stationed. The group of Guosim soldiers was clamoring quietly, confused faces turning back and forth as they watched the large shrew pace beside another shrew on his knees.

"Quiet! EVERYBEAST SHUT UP!" Log-a-Log barked.

Jurlick and the other shrews quieted down. Even Jurlick knew that when his Chieftain spoke, it was time to close his mouth. At least, he knew that right now. Jurlick looked at the shrew on his knees, his yellow headband drenched with sweat. Don't smile, Jurlick told himself. Hold yer tongue.

"I'm gunna make this quick: Tileer here is accused o' slayin' Menryl!"

Jurlick flicked his eyes at Benrath. He stared at him, watching as Benrath's eyes grew wide and he looked at the shrew with bewilderment. Jurlick's mouth twitched slightly, but not enough for anybeast to notice. Other shrews were clamoring; some of them were shouting out that Tileer was a traitor for slaying a fellow shrew. Others shook their heads, still trying to figure it all out. But Jurlick didn't care. All that mattered was the beast standing next to him, the one who humiliated him, defecated in his maw.

"Wot d'ye say, Tileer? Why'd ye do it?!"

"I—" Tileer stammered. "I-I didn't do it! I weren't even near Menryl last night!"

Log-a-Log pulled a bloody dagger from his kilt and waved it in front of Tileer's face. "Wot's this then? Ye always carry a dagger coated with blood on ye?"

"That…" Tileer shut his eyes and huffed. "Chief, I-I don't know where—"

"We found it on ye at dawn. It was in yer paw; Menryl was soakin' in 'is own blood not far away!"

"How the fuck could I had killed 'im?! I was drunk last night—I were stewin' in me own bile!"

Log-a-Log chuckled. "Course ye were. Only a coward like ye would lose 'is dinner after doin' sumthin' as despicable as slayin' one o' his own!"

"That's not—"

"So wot say ye, Guosim?! Wot d'ye think I should do with this…this slanderous filth?!"

Jurlick couldn't help himself. He started to grin very slowly, looking all around the crowd, listening to the shrews who wanted blood, vengeance. He could see Tileer panicking, breathing heavily, on the verge of loosening his bowels inside his trousers. He could see Benrath rubbing his chin, shaking his head with disbelief. Jurlick licked his teeth and folded his arms, still smirking to himself. The panting shrew whimpered as Log-a-Log Brugo tapped the blade of the dagger against the top of his head. Tileer looked up at Jurlick with hopeful eyes.

"Ju-Jurlick! T…tell 'im. Tell 'em—tell 'em I was drunk! Tell 'im I-I fuckin' spilled me guts all o'er the fuckin' ground! Tell 'im I was too drunk t'even hold a dagger prop'ly!"

Jurlick lowered his arms and shrugged. "M'sorry mate. I was drunk too! Dunno wot ye were up to last night!"

Tileer gritted his teeth and whined. "No…y-ye saw me! Ye fuckin'—"

"Does anybeast else 'ave anythin' else t'say? Hmm? Anybeast else?" asked Log-a-Log Brugo.

Benrath huffed. "Dad, look. Tileer wouldn't do this—he an' Menryl were best mates! Wot would he have to gain by killin' him? 'Sides, blood on his clothes? Ye saw him with the dagger in his paw? Tileer ain't _that_ stupid, Dad! Jus'…jus' think about this fer a moment."

"I 'ave thought about it! Menryl's dead. Tileer was found with a bloody weapon in his paw. Nobeast can confirm or deny that he didn't do it. So I'm gunna kill 'im."

"Dad—"

Log-a-Log placed the dagger against Tileer's throat. And then he swiftly ran it across his neck, cutting him so fast that blood gushed from his throat. Tileer gagged and gasped, the blood flowing from his neck and splattering all over the ground. Log-a-Log grinned as he tilted Tileer's head back, making sure the fountains of blood shot up into the air, sprinkling around the dirt and leaves. Tileer's body twitched a few times as the shrew tried to mumble something. But the shrew couldn't say much, and there was no way to stop any of the bleeding. Jurlick grinned as he watched the life slowly drain from Tileer's body. When Log-a-Log noticed he stopped moving, he shoved Tileer down and spat on his corpse.

"Dispose of this!"

None of them seemed to care. Who used to be one of their own, a fellow shrew and Guosim soldier they fought alongside, was now waste that needed to be buried. A few shrews walked over to Tileer's corpse, grunting as they picked him up and hauled his body to the river. Then they tossed him in with a large splash, and the corpse disappeared beneath the warm water. Jurlick kept flicking his eyes at Benrath, watching as the shrew stared at the large patches of blood sprayed across the soil. He wished he had the power to read minds. He was so eager to know how much Benrath was panicking, so curious to see if the shrew was beginning to feel like he was losing all his friends. Jurlick walked away from Benrath, walked away from the spilled blood on the ground. He couldn't stop chuckling to himself, his plan coming along nicely with each passing day.

Not much longer, Jurlick thought.

* * *

They were hungry. So they ate. They were aroused. So they fornicated. It was a simple life, a primal, urge-driven life that all the lizards could comprehend. Nobeast seemed to understand how their concept of life worked. Nobeast wanted to reason with them. So they killed them all and left their remains lying about for others to find. Krassak Ralfur lost track of how many lizards and other cold-blooded creatures he managed to recruit since he arrived in Mossflower. He lost track of how many bodies he left as well. He lost soldiers, gained more, had some of his monitors eat other soldiers, only to gain more. And now here the lizard was, walking around outside, gazing at his vast army, hissing and grinning with delight as he went around checking on the progress of everybeast. Krassak hadn't found more tasty shrews, much to his annoyance, but he knew he was going on the right path. He had, however, found an assortment of snakes, some of whom proved to be useful with his quest to spy on various tribes or colonies spread throughout the forest. The mighty monitor hissed as he walked over to the red spitting cobra that was slithering along the ground. The cobra blinked before he lifted his head and stared at the lizard.

"What issss it, Mighty One?"

"Juzt checkin' to zee if your znakez have made progrezz."

The red cobra hissed, his pale tongue flapping up and down. "We have found wanderersssss further into the foresssst, heading towardssss a farm."

Krassak's cold eyes lit up. "A farm, you zay?"

"Yesssss, Mighty Krasssssak! A farm, near the ford of the river! Large plain not far from the treesssss; I'm sure there are many ssssuppliesssss there."

Krassak licked his teeth. "And many tazty beaztz too. D'you find other alliez? More znakez you could uze?"

"No, Mighty Krassssak. We'll have to make do with the sssnakessss we have."

Krassak nodded. "Fair enough. Get Rezznat over here, will ya? There'z zomethin' important we need to dizcuzz."

"Assss you wish, Mighty One."

Krassak watched as the red cobra turned and opened his mouth wide. He emitted a strange noise that was a cross between a gurgling, screeching sound, as if the snake was drowning in his own bile. Then the snake released a clod of venom against the ground, and the red reptile lied back down and slithered away. Krassak rubbed his chin and sat down on a log, flaring his nostrils as his earholes were filled with the sound of somebeast moving furtively through the grass. It didn't take long before Ressnat showed up, the garter snake lifting his head and hissing at the monitor.

"Wot issss it, Krasssssak?"

Without saying a word, Krassak unsheathed his cutlass and lopped the snake's head off. The monitor grinned as he watched the snake's headless body shake and writhe around in the soil, still trying to survive. Krassak watched as the snake's severed head moved slightly, lying in the grass on its side, as if to question what just happened. Krassak sighed heavily and placed his sword back in its sheath before he picked up a pointed stick near the log. He crouched down and grabbed Ressnat's body after it stopped twitching, compressed the body together, and jammed the stick through the scaly beast. Then Krassak stood up, looked down at Ressnat's head, and crushed it beneath his footpaw. He listened to the bones crunching and the blood and brain squelching, the warm fluids getting all over his footpaw. And then Krassak sighed and started to walk away, lifting the headless snake up to his mouth so he could take a bite out of it. He walked along the ground that had been soiled by his lizards' footpaws and bodily waste before he came across his brutish lieutenant, the grayish-brown monitor Ulwort. Krassak smirked as he observed the giant beast sitting across from two young mice, slurping and munching on what seemed to be somebeast's ribs.

"How old are ya?" Ulwort asked.

One of the mice flinched when food erupted from the lizard's maw, nearly hitting her gown. The other one merely turned away, shuddering and looking down. Neither mouse answered Ulwort, prompting the tall, heavy lizard to come over and sit on the same log as the rodents. Ulwort ripped more flesh from one of the ribs, chewing on the bloody meat with his mouth open before he swallowed hard and turned his head.

"Wot'z wrong? You two 'fraid of ol' Ulwort? You don't like me?"

Krassak sat down on another log not far from the trio and resumed eating Ressnat's body, smacking loud enough for the beasts to hear. Ulwort grinned at the two mice, still waiting for an answer from them. Krassak could tell that their silence was angering him; he could see the large lizard's smile slowly waning. Ulwort bit more flesh from the ribs before he tossed his meal aside and swallowed hard.

"Anzwer me. _Now_."

"N-no…no, we…we don't," mumbled one mouse.

"But why not? Are you frightened by my appearanze? Do I not arouze you?" Ulwort sniffed himself a few times before he snorted. "Doez my zcent dizguzt you? Or maybe you two aren't fond o' my breath? It doezn't ztink too much, do it?"

The mice still didn't answer. Ulwort tormented the both of them even more when he exhaled harshly against their faces, making both of them turn away and gag. He licked one of the beasts in her left ear, watching as the young, innocent creature squirmed and whimpered. Krassak was still sitting down eating his meal, waiting for the big lizard to snap. Ulwort scooted over beside the mouse in a purple gown and sniffed. Then he grabbed her left paw, lifted it up to his mouth, and bit down on three of her fingers. The mouse started to scream and holler, watching as blood started to dribble down her fingers. There was a subtle, sickening crunch, and then the mouse screeched as she jerked her paw backwards—sans three fingers. The other mouse got up, ready to run, but Krassak was on her before she could go anywhere, wrapping his arms around her body and hauling her over to the log he was sitting on. Ulwort crunched on the mouse's fingers noisily, the bones popping inside his mouth. He spat a few bone fragments in the mouse's face as she cried and clutched her bleeding paw, hoping she didn't go into shock.

"Let'z try thiz again! Why d'you not like Ulwort?!"

"BECAUSE YORE A FUCKIN' ANIMAL!" the mouse finally screeched. "You-yore evil and-and foul an' horrible—you just bit off my fuckin' fingers fer no reason! Yes, yore scent disgusts me—just sitting beside you makes me wanna vomit! Everytime you open yer mouth I smell rotten corpses! I hate you! I-I hate all you fuckin' lizards 'cos I know yore gonna rape us until you get bored! Th-then…then yer gonna kill us…yer jus' gonna eat us like we're dead birds or-or fish."

Krassak chuckled as he looked at the bleeding mouse's paw. He tore more snake meat off with his teeth and started to talk with his mouth full.

"Of courze we're goin' to kill you. You're both pointlezz to uz. I've thought about it for a while too. We'll ztart off zlow, hack off a limb or two. Then we'll fry it over an open flame; let the zmell of yer burnin' flesh fill your nozez. Az we devour your preciouz limbz, we'll hack off another one. Perhapz we'll…hmm…Ulwort, d'you remember that recipe 'bout fried mize brainz?"

Ulwort nodded. "Get a few mize brainz, chop 'em up into large chunkz, add zome mushroomz an' green onionz to it an' fry it all in a pan."

Krassak inhaled sharply and started to drool. "Ohhhh, yez! Been a while zince we've eaten that! Now, the two of you will be dead by then, zo you won't feel uz mutilating your corpzez, rippin' out your heartz, your lungz, your kidneyz and ovariez. You won't feel uz fuckin' your dead bodiez, fillin' them up with our zeed. And you won't be able to zmell uz defiling your corpzez with our fezez an' urine. Shame really. If only there waz a way to keep you mize alive zo you can zee everythin' we plan on doin' to ya…"

There was nothing else the mice could say. Krassak nonchalantly bit into the snake again, spitting out a few scales as he chewed on the meat with his mouth open. The mouse who was missing three fingers slowly lied down on the log, shivering and sniffling as a few tears ran down her face. The other one looked as if she had no more life in her, like Krassak had already broken her spirit. The lizard could see how much his words hurt the rodent and decided to cheer her up.

"But don't you worry! We'll take good care of you! We're on our way to a farm; gonna find lotz more beaztz to znack on 'til we find thiz…Guozim tribe or whatever it iz. I'll make sure my lizardz do you no harm, that they don't even touch you the wrong way. We'll make sure you're well fed until we reach the farm."

"So…so you're not going to kill us?"

Krassak snickered. "I didn't zay that. I want the two of you alive long enough for you to zee what we do to our prey. I want you two to zee how we eat, how strong we are, how zavage we act around our foez. I want you…to hear other innozent beaztz zcreaming fer merzy. I want you to watch az we burn thiz farm to the ground."

Krassak stood up and walked in front of the mouse who still had her fingers. He crouched down and hissed, his snout mere inches away from the rodent's nose.

" _Then_ I'll kill you."

Krassak hissed again, his tongue flapping against the mouse's face. The lizard held the snake he spitted in front of the mouse and grinned.

"You want zome? I'm sure you muzt be hungry!"

She was gonna take it. He knew she was. There was no life left in her. The reptile snickered as he watched the mouse grab the stick and look at it, thinking the dead snake would have all the answers. Then Krassak rubbed the mouse's head and sat down beside her, staring at the young beast's hopeless body. His stomach was already growling at the thought of scooping her brains out and roasting them over a fire. But he knew it was better to wait, let his meal get fatter over the next day or two. Besides, he wasn't too concerned about going hungry.

That's what his lizards were for.

* * *

Tegast huffed and swore, still squatting by the tree with his trousers around his ankles. The young rat shut his eyes, his knees shaking as he tried to force himself to relax and let his body void itself. The rat heard loud chortling not far from where he was squatting and glanced over to see Grustur laughing at him with his nose plugged.

"Told ya not to eat all them cherries! I'm surprised you haven't puked your guts out yet!"

Tegast scowled. "Shut up, Grus."

The rat shut his eyes and grunted as his stomach irritated him again. He wrapped his arms around his gut as he pushed out more fecal matter, the brown mess splashing and squishing as it spread around the tree's roots. Tegast opened his eyes and exhaled again, pushing out some gas as he felt the loose stool dripping from his behind.

"You done yet?"

Tegast didn't answer. He stayed squatted for another two minutes, waiting to see if his bowels would flare up again. When they didn't, the young rat nodded and pulled his trousers back up, exhaling as he stood straight up.

"Okay…I think it's all outta my system. Let's go."

Grustur nodded and the two beasts started to walk away from the tree. Tegast was about to say something to the vole when he flared his nostrils and blinked. The young rat turned around slowly and sniffed the air twice, scrunching up his face when a horrible odor filled his lungs.

"Hey, Grus…you smell that?"

The watervole chuckled. "What? The giant puddle of sludge you deposited by that tree?"

"No, besides that…"

Grustur walked beside Tegast and blinked. He leaned forward and sniffed the air a few times as well, trying to detect the sharp odor that Tegast had noticed. The vole veered his head backwards and groaned as he plugged his nose again.

"Fuckin' lizards. It's like they stink more an' more everytime we run into 'em!"

"No, not…there's somethin' else. It's a different kind…"

Tegast took two steps forward and flared his nostrils again. As much as he hated the stench, he knew he smelled that strange odor before. The rat's eyes grew wide and he swore quietly.

"Hide."

"It doesn't smell like the whole horde is comin' by. Prob'ly just one or two—"

"I'm tellin' you right now, we need to hide!"

Grustur could see the fear in Tegast's face. He frowned and nodded; if Tegast was truly scared of whoever or whatever he smelled, he knew it was best to take his advice. So the two beasts hid their sacks filled with supplies inside a small tree hollow before they scurried up the same tree. Tegast tried not to strain his body too much; his midriff still stung after being stabbed by the lizards over a week ago. Grustur climbed along the bark, grunting and pulling himself onto the branches. Tegast did the same, trying to get as far off the ground as possible. But just as he was about to reach Grustur's branch, he heard a shrill cry. The rat stopped and gasped. He looked behind into the forest and could see a reptile dragging somebeast by his ears across the ground. Tegast sniffed the air again and gagged. He knew that stench by heart after his previous encounter with the foul beast. Gila the Putrid hissed as he dragged the mouse, his fat purple tongue flicking out his fetid mouth. Tegast clung beside the tree bark, sitting down slowly as he looked at the orange and black reptile and the mouse with his paws tied behind his back. The rat suddenly felt the branch shake; he turned around and saw Grustur behind him.

"What is it, mate? It's just—"

"Look," whispered Tegast. "He captured somebeast. We gotta go down there an' help him!"

Grustur shook his head. "Not our problem. Ain't our fault that mouse got caught."

Grustur grabbed Tegast's arm and tried to drag him away, but the rat roughly shoved him off. Grustur, knowing Teg wouldn't leave it alone, rolled his eyes and huffed. He stood behind Tegast, peering around the corner of the tree as he looked down at the bloated beast.

"Ugly li'l fucker, ain't he? Been a while since I saw a lizard that big and fat."

"Just wait 'til he opens his mouth. I swear that lizard's breath could peel the bark off a tree."

Grustur chuckled. "That bad, huh?"

Tegast nodded and looked a little closer, looking at the lizard's turquoise clothing and his black skull. Gila stared at the whimpering mouse, his fat tongue flicking out his mouth again. He looked down at the rodent, hissing noisily, before he flared his nostrils and blinked. Gila chuckled deeply as he crouched down near his captive's head.

"Ye zmell that, little mouze?"

The mouse responded by whimpering, his face already wet with tears. Gila nodded as he stood up and exhaled.

"I THINK THAT'Z THE ZMELL O' A ZTINKY RAT!"

Tegast swore and sat down hard and tried to conceal himself. Grustur shifted around on the tree and glanced down, looking at the lizard as he started to walk around the area.

"Relax, Teg. I'm sure there's lots of smelly rats in the area."

Gila flared his nostrils again. "Hmm…that a vole I zmell too? Oh good…I get to 'ave three victimz today! Come on down! Join Gila the Putrid an' we'll all 'ave a fantaztic romp together!"

Grustur frowned before he shifted around on the branch again as he sat down behind Tegast. The two beasts suddenly went still once the tree branch cracked; Gila snarled and flicked his head in the direction of the tree. The vile lizard hissed and sniffed several times, trying to detect Tegast's scent. It didn't take long for the reptile to find it though—the rodent left a very messy mark after his recent bowel trauma. Gila found Tegast's pile of stool on the tree roots and crouched down. He sniffed the loose excrement for a moment and growled deeply. Tegast peeked around the corner of the tree and saw Gila crouching down, but he couldn't make out what was happening.

"The fuck is he doin', eating all your shit?" asked Grustur.

"I wouldn't be surprised. Maybe that explains why his breath stinks so much."

Gila stood up, his mouth and tongue brown after licking up all of the rat's runny waste. The lizard licked the sludge off his mouth and teeth before he belched and turned back around. He resumed sniffing the air, walking around from bush to bush, trying to find any traces of Tegast. Gila blinked and peeked inside the bushes, hissing and grinning, his fat tail thumping against the ground.

"COME OUT! I know ye ain't far 'way! Cummon, ztinky rat! Don't ye wanna play with yer good friend Gila the Putrid?"

Tegast didn't answer. He stayed absolutely still alongside Grustur, hoping the lizard would get bored and head back to his army. The rat shut his eyes and exhaled, treating the reptile's hissing and snarls as nothing more than background noise. But Gila was no fool. He knew that one way or another, he'd find the smelly rodent. And all he needed was the mouse in front of him to help out.

"Fine then. No worriez. Me li'l mouzie mate 'ere will entertain me!"

Gila walked over to the mouse and removed the gag that he had in his mouth. The rodent took a deep breath and whimpered as he tried to crawl away.

"HELP! SOMEBEAST HELP ME!"

Tegast looked down at the rodent and started to reach for his weapon. Grustur immediately grabbed his arm and shook his head.

"No."

"But he's—"

"This whole thing could be a trap. We don't know how many lizards are around. You know he's tryin' to draw us out."

Tegast gritted his teeth as he looked back down at the mouse. Gila was laughing as he kicked him and hissed in his face. The mouse started to shut his eyes, sobbing quietly, clearly wishing somebeast would come down to his aid. Gila looked around the woods, grinning widely as he flared his nostrils.

"Can ye zee me, ztinky rat? Hmm? Can ye 'ear me?"

Tegast glanced at the ground again and swore. He was about to stand up when Grustur jerked him back down. The rat started to pant heavily, panicking over what Gila was doing. The large lizard stood behind the mouse, growling as he grabbed his waistband and pulled his shorts down. The orange and black creature stared at the mouse's tail as it concealed his hole. Gila walked behind the mouse and quickly lifted the tail, causing the rodent to shriek.

"NO! GET AWAY! DON'T YOU FUCKIN' TOUCH ME!"

Gila laughed as he watched the mouse jerk his body across the ground. But he couldn't even get to his footpaws since they were bound as well with tight rope. The heavy lizard continued to watch the mouse's futile attempts to escape from him. But Gila already knew that there was nothing the mouse could do. Gila licked his choppers and growled lustfully, his hemipenes gradually sliding out of his cloaca. Tegast was up in the tree trying to fight off Grustur. Eventually, the watervole wrapped his arms around the rat and hugged him tightly. The vole made sure his arms were secured around Tegast's arms. As the rat sat down, constricted by Grustur's grip, he swore and thrashed his body around.

"Let go of me! We have to help him!" Tegast snarled.

"No, we don't," said Grustur coldly.

"He's gonna rape him, Grus!" the rat whined. "We…we have to—"

Grustur kept holding onto Tegast and sighed before he spoke softly in his ears. "Just…don't look, Teg. I'll tell you when it's over."

Tegast kept fighting. He knew he had to help him. The rat swore and tried to wriggle free, constantly panting as he looked down at Gila. The mouse was still trying to crawl away when Gila stood behind him. He grabbed his bottom and snarled, rubbing it for a moment, before he pounced on the rodent. The mouse shrieked again, jerking his head and footpaws around as the nasty creature toppled him. Gila was so huge that he covered the entire mouse; Tegast could barely see the rodent being crushed by the heavy reptile. Gila grinned as he panted and shifted his body around. He wiggled his body and moved the mouse's large tail around until his groin was pressed up against it. Gila didn't insert just yet. He let the tip of his right hemipenis dribble out a small amount of pre-ejaculate, just to torment the mouse of what was about to happen. Tegast snarled as he jerked his head down, trying to bite Grustur's arms. But just as he opened his maw, he heard that blood-curdling cry and knew it was already happening.

"STOP! GET OFF ME! GET OFF!"

Tegast stopped fighting Grustur. He lifted his head back up and started to stare blankly ahead. He told himself not to look down. He told himself to ignore the mouse. He was just some random beast after all; neither of them knew him. Neither of them should care. But with each scream, Tegast's ears would twitch and he'd start to breathe heavily. He told himself not to look down. The mouse wasn't important. His life didn't matter. For all he knew, he was a tawdry thief, a backstabber, a coward who recently deserted his army. He told himself not to look down. The mouse was irrelevant. Maybe he had a family. Maybe he was on the run like he and Grustur were. Perhaps he had babes to take care of. And now they were going to starve to death because a rat and watervole were too cowardly to help out. Tegast looked down. His ears lowered. He knew he shouldn't have. Grustur warned him not too; he knew it was wrong. And now that he had, he couldn't stop staring. All he could see was the giant beast pummeling the mouse from behind, jerking his body back and forth with each thrust. He could see Gila moving his body enthusiastically, panting as he moved his footpaws backward, kicking up dirt. He could faintly see the mouse's tied-up footpaws buried somewhere beneath Gila's huge body.

But he couldn't feel it. He didn't know what it felt like to lie on his stomach as a foul-smelling stranger violated him. He couldn't feel a prickly phallus lodging its way inside his tailhole, grinding away at his rectum, tearing him up inside and making him sore. He couldn't feel Gila's claws digging into his scalp; he didn't feel Gila's drool dripping down onto his face; he couldn't smell the beast's hot malodorous breath whenever he exhaled or panted on the back of his head. Tegast slowly moved his head back and stopped looking. His eyes teared up as he tried to move his arms again. The rat whimpered as he continued to listen—at some point, the mouse stopped screaming. The sound of the mouse crying for help was replaced with the lizard snarling, slurping, and grunting. Tegast shuddered as he heard Gila moan. The lizard huffed, warm air coming from his nostrils, spittle flying from his mouth. The lizard's hemipenis continued to throb inside the mouse's anus, oozing out more pre-ejaculate. He thrust into the mouse faster, his member creating a slick squishing sound. Tegast's vision became blurrier as a few tears started to run down his face. Tegast shut his eyes and sniffled, hoping the noises would end soon.

And then it happened. Gila let out a gurgling snarl, a demonic cross between a roar and a blissful scream. Tegast felt a chill go up his spine as he heard the vile beast make the same sound multiple times. He heard more squishing down below, followed by Gila panting and snarling incessantly, saliva flying from his mouth. The lizard jammed his shaft inside as hard as possible, letting the slick semen shoot from his phallus. Tegast whimpered so loudly that Grustur had to cover his mouth. The rat let out a few more tears as he heard Gila panting, recovering from his orgasm. The nasty lizard exhaled and grinned, his heart slowing down as he felt very content. Gila hissed as he slowly pulled out of the beast, his erection soaked in his own creamy fluids. The mouse sobbed as he gradually lifted his head, his anus sore and torn apart.

"Help me—"

The mouse didn't even have time to weakly finish crying out before Gila snapped his neck with a sickening crunch. Tegast shut his eyes again after hearing the crunch. Gila giggled as he stood straight up and casually walked towards his shorts. He put his trousers back on before he took a deep breath.

"Shame ye didn't join uz, ztinky rat! Woulda loved t'ave ye az well! But don't ye worry, rat! This were juz' a warmup!"

Tegast slowly opened his eyes, believing the monster had just found him and Grustur. Gila looked up into the trees as he continued to shout.

"The Mighty One haz found a farm! Hehe, that'z right, ztinky rat! Our znakez located a farm near thiz river'z ford! Ohhhhh, zo many beaztz muzt be there, ripe fer the takin'! Ye wanna know wot we're gunna do to them beaztz, ztinky rat? We're gunna fuck 'em! We're gonna rape 'em one atta time, fuck 'em 'til their arzez are raw an' bloody—juzt like thiz mouzie right 'ere! Then we're gonna eat 'em all alive, roazt their corpzez az their zcreamz fill the air! I really, _really_ hope ye'll come along an' join uz! Ye ratz alwayz are a tazty lot!"

Tegast didn't say or do anything. The two beasts listened to Gila as he laughed heartily and began to walk away. Even then, after the lizard's footsteps could no longer be heard, Grustur held onto Tegast for a few more minutes. He glanced around the corner of the tree, looking for any signs of the beast. After he realized he was gone, the watervole exhaled and let go of the rat.

"All right, he's gone. C'mon, we gotta go now before any other lizards show up."

Grustur started to climb down the tree while Tegast stayed frozen. All he could do was shake and stare straight ahead. He kept replaying the situation in his mind, telling himself over and over again that there was nothing he could do. He kept telling himself that he wasn't a coward, that the mouse was doomed no matter what he did. But he couldn't move. Something in his body paralyzed him, made him feel like he was glued to the tree branch. The rat breathed softly as more tears ran down his face. He swallowed, wondering if his nausea would kick in and make him vomit.

"Hey, Teg…c'mon buddy, let's go."

The rat blinked and looked down, watching as Grustur resumed climbing down the tree. Tegast did the same, slowly moving his paws and footpaws down, breathing quietly, still trying to ignore everything that just happened. He landed on the ground beside Grustur with a hard thud and turned. They faced each other for a moment before the vole meekly rubbed his right arm and exhaled.

"I'll get the packs," he said quietly.

Grustur took the two packs from the tree hollow and placed one around his back. He handed one over to Tegast before he turned around and started walking. The bag felt like a heavy weight too large for somebeast his size to carry. It slipped from his fingers with ease, landing on the ground with a noisy thump. Tegast flicked his eyes at the dead mouse, still lying on the ground, still tied up with the lizard's seed dripping out of his anus. Tegast sniffled and sobbed, shutting his eyes as he began to feel light-headed. Grustur stopped walking and turned around, watching as Tegast fell to his knees and started to cry.

"Shit. Hey, hey, hey, it's all right, Teg!"

Grustur put his sack down as well and rushed behind the rat. He wrapped his arms around him again, embracing him, rubbing his head as he tried to calm him down.

"No, shhhh, it's okay, Teg. You didn't do this. Neither of us did. There was nothing—"

Tegast jerked his arms up and wedged himself free from Grustur's grasp. The rat quickly stood up and turned around, his face wet with tears as he gritted his teeth.

"Nuh…n-nothin' we could do, r-right? That—" Tegast inhaled and sniffled. "That's wot you were gonna say?"

Grustur sighed. "Tegast—"

"WE SAW HIM! We were right there, Grus! Did-did you not hear 'im?! Didn't—" Tegast stopped again, sobbing as some mucus ran down his nostrils. He rubbed some of the sludge away before he whimpered and shook his head. "All we had t'do was come down. It was one fuckin' lizard—we coulda kill 'im easily!"

"Except his dead body would be found. His army would know that somebeast posed a threat to them. He could already sniff both of us out—those lizards would've stopped at nothing to find us!"

"That's wot they're doin' right now! This mouse did nothin' an' that monster forced himself inside him an'-an' just…he just…"

Tegast sniffled again. "Why? Why would…why do beasts do that? Wot's the point?!"

Grustur shrugged. "Dominance. Control. Power. The inability to reproduce properly. I stopped askin' why."

Tegast stared at Grustur with wide eyes. "Do you just not care?"

"No. I thought you wouldn't either. You said yer family traveled a lot. Nothing like this ever happened?"

"NO! My family an' my tribe worked together! We always stuck together—we-we always tried to help each other! We didn't just leave beasts t'get slaughtered like that!"

"Why not?"

"'Cos it's not right!"

"Takin' another beast's life isn't right. But you were fully prepared to slay that lizard if I hadn't stopped you."

"To stop him from rapin' that innocent mouse! If…if that was me, wot would you have done? Would you have left me? W-would you have let that maniac rape an' kill me?"

Grustur didn't answer. He merely looked away as he felt the wind blowing against his face. Tegast sniffled and walked in front of him, looking the watervole in his eyes.

"Would you?"

"I can't answer that."

"Why not?!"

"Because I've yet t'find myself in that position. When it comes to you, I honestly don't know. When it comes to some random mouse I've never met before, absolutely. This creature didn't impact my life. He weren't important to me now. He won't be tomorrow."

"So wot about that farm? We…we're jus' gonna ignore that too?"

"Yes."

"There could be babes there! If those lizards are headin'—"

"If those lizards are goin' that way, a fourteen-season-old rat and a thieving watervole can't do shit about it! It's two against, what? Over two hundred? Two _thousand_? Nothing we do will help them. We'll end up riskin' our lives for absolutely _nothing_."

"But can't we—"

"TEGAST!" Grustur suddenly shouted.

Tegast shut his mouth, almost as if his father had just yelled at him. Grustur sighed heavily and rubbed his head.

"You'll get used to it. Sooner or later—hopefully sooner, the sound of beasts dying? Beasts bein' raped? Babes havin' their heads smashed in? S'all background noise. S'all just flies buzzing 'round your face. You swat it away. And then the noise just…stops."

Grustur bent over and picked up his sack again, flinging it around onto his back. "Now get the rest of the supplies. We'd better get moving before somebeast else comes along."

"…Okay," said the rat softly.

Tegast felt numb. All his anger, his fear, his sadness suddenly went away. Now all he wanted to do was lie down and go to sleep, hope that he'd wake up clutching his brother this time, not a large rock. But it was far too late for any of that now. All he had was himself and Grustur. Tegast looked at the mouse's body again, sniffling and wiping the rest of the tears off his face. He picked up the backpack and put it on, still believing that it was heavier than usual. Grustur stared at Tegast, waiting for him to do something. The rodent stared back at him. And then the beasts resumed their journey, acting as if they never saw the mouse to begin with.


	3. Pals

**XXVII**

 **Pals**

"OW! That 'tween my ears, Hon!"

The young leveret snickered as he raised his wooden sword and started to chase after the other leveret. "Say ee, Tikee! I'm better sword-holdee'n you!"

"Never!"

The other hare turned and faced his friend, holding an equally large wooden sword in front of Hon's face. The two beasts started to wave the swords around, the wood clacking over and over again as the hares pretended to fight each other. Suddenly, Hon yowled and dropped his sword, whining as he looked at his left paw.

"Time out, time out, time out!"

Tike stopped fighting and lowered his sword, blinking. He walked over to the wincing leveret and looked at his paw.

"Wot is it? Got 'notha splinty?"

Hon groaned and nodded. "Yeah. Pull it out?"

Tike looked closely at Hon's paw and raised an eyebrow. "Err, I dun see any splint—"

Tike gasped and shouted when Hon jerked his arm down and snatched the wooden sword from his paws. He jabbed Tike in the stomach with it, causing Tike to cough and bend over. Then Hon grinned as he elbowed Tike in the back of the neck, sending him flat on his face. Before Tike had the chance to get up, Hon pointed his wooden sword at the hare, making sure the pointy end was aimed right for Tike's face. Tike looked up at the sword and the hare's grin before huffing.

"Hehe, I win, I win!" shouted Hon.

"You _twat_."

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOH! I'm tellin' yer mum y'said the T word!"

Tike's eyes grew wide when he saw Hon running away. "Oh sh—NO! Sh-shut up, Hon! It slipped out!"

Hon started to laugh as his friend began to chase him around the village, hopping and ducking their way through various logs, huts, and any other obstructions in their way.

"Tike's in trou-ble, Tike's in trou-ble! You are in trou-ble!" Hon shouted in a sing-song voice.

Tike snarled as he started to sprint faster, determined to stop the hare before he opened his big mouth. Hon laughed in a mocking tone as he turned around and stuck his tongue out at Tike. Tike was just about to tackle the hare down when Hon shouted and bumped into somebeast so hard that he collapsed onto his back. Tike stopped running and gasped, realizing the kind of hare he was looking at.

"Fuck! Stew-pid fuckin' fuck standin'…hiiiiiiiii, Dad! Um…how's you doin'?"

Hon's father scowled before he reached down and grabbed his son by the ears. Honward shrieked as he was lifted off the ground, whimpering and whining as he started to thrash his short legs around.

"An' just wot have I told you about usin' such foul language?"

"TIKE SAID THE T WORD!" Honward blurted out.

"I did not you fuckin' twat!"

Hon's father glared at Tike, causing the leveret's eyes to widen as he shyly twiddled with his fingers.

"I—um—I-I said twit."

It wasn't long before Tike found himself being hauled by his ears as well, his footpaws dragging against the ground as Hon's father pulled him towards his home. Hon's father was still clutching his son as well, ready to punish the leveret accordingly.

"You two can forget about swordfightin' fer the rest of the week!"

"OW! But Father—"

"Shush! An' Tike, I'm sure your mum still has her paddle inside the house! I think it's time she introduces it to yer bum again!"

"But I no wan' a spankee!" whined Tike.

The two young hares continued to whine and thrash around, still hoping to avoid their impending spanking.

* * *

The two hares breathed softly, gazing out into the woods, looking at the gloomy horizon. Their clothes were still damp from the early morning rain, and by how gray the clouds were, they had a feeling it would rain a second time very soon. Sergeant Honward rubbed his nose while Corporal Tike Bonson exhaled and shook some of the water off his arms. He heard a faint boom in the distance but saw nothing flashing across his face. The corporal sniffed and blinked.

"Wotcha think? 'Nother hour or two?"

"Three maybe."

Corporal Bonson shut his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "Fuckin' rain. It's gettin' close to summer now; we should be sweatin' our arses off, wot!"

Honward smirked. "Look at it this way: least we don't gotta bathe for another day."

Tike shrugged. "I guess. Won't make much difference once we reach the swamps though; we're gonna have t'bathe again after walkin' 'round that noisome place."

"We could always tell Urthquake to try an' go around, hit the ford and go southwest."

Tike glanced away from Honward and kept looking down at the ground and his muddy footpaws hanging in the air. Honward noticed Tike's silence, but he didn't try to create another confrontation that wouldn't help out either of them. Tike heard more thunder in the distance and started to look around. The area was gradually getting darker, the scent of rain stronger in his nose. As each day progressed, Tike noticed that the woods were becoming denser and filthier. Ordinary deciduous trees that grew fruits were now black alder trees containing cones and various catkins. Fewer birds seemed to be spotted, except for various crows and a few woodpeckers. Sometimes the Long Patrol would wake up and notice the area was foggy and carrying a strange odor; other days the area looked very muddy and watery. Even now, Honward and Tike could see strange gases rising in the distance, and they saw a wide-open area that looked like part of a bottomless bog. Tike hopped off the branch he was sitting on, his footpaws landing in the mud with a loud squelch. The hare grimaced and lifted his footpaws, still irritated at the frequent amount of times he ended up having mud in-between his toes. Honward jumped down beside him, the mud splashing in multiple directions.

"We'll let Lakler and Flossy deal with the trackin'. There ain't nothin' else out here; let's head back."

Tike nodded. "All right."

The two hares were about to leave when they heard somebeast groaning and turned around. Honward immediately grabbed his sabre while Tike raised a paw, signaling him to settle down. Tike wiggled his ears as he walked forward cautiously.

"Hello?"

And then they saw him, a heavily wounded beast dragging his footpaws in the mud. His clothes were ripped and there was blood spread around his chest. The hares slowly approached the beast, recognizing him as a ferret. He lifted his head and slowly extended a paw.

"Please…help me…" he moaned.

Honward and Tike crept over to the scruffy creature, still staying on guard.

"Betcha this is a trap, mate. We should kill 'im now an' get it over with," whispered Hon.

"No," snarled Tike, scowling at his friend. "Let's talk to him first."

"Tike, you know—"

"I said let's talk to him."

Honward stared at his friend's scowl and decided it was best to comply with his wishes for now. So Honward lowered his guard, and the two hares approached the wounded vermin.

* * *

"DO IT! DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!" they chanted.

Tike was struggling as one of the hares had a tight grip on his body and head. Honward was grinning as he looked at his best friend and raised an arm.

"C'mon, mate! You lost the bet! Gotta do it now, wot!"

Tike shook his head several times and tried to move away, but the other hare continued to shove his head closer. The three beasts around him continued to chant until the hare grasping Tike overpowered him. There was nothing Tike could do. The beast shoved his head against Honward's left armpit, forcing his muzzle against the sweaty patch of hair. The hares around him started to laugh hysterically, with one of them collapsing to the ground on the verge of tears. Honward was still grinning as the hare behind Tike moved his head up and down, grinding his muzzle against his musky armpit. Tike mumbled as the pungent stench crept into his nostrils; the smell was so bitter and strong that his eyes almost watered. Then the hare behind Tike jerked his head away, giving the young hare time to breathe. Tike opened his mouth and inhaled deeply before he waved a paw in front of his muzzle and began to cough.

"See, mate?! That weren't so bad, now was it?" said Honward.

Tike plugged his nose and scowled. "A badger's arse smells better'n you do! When was the last time you bathed?!"

Honward shrugged. "Can't remember."

Tike groaned with disgust and turned around, stomping away from the campsite in a huff. "Let's just go! We better find them bandits 'afore they try to come back to our village!"

Honward chuckled. "Now yer talkin'! Lesgal, Grenny! Get your weapons and follow us!"

The other two hares nodded and picked up their sabres and slings, ready to take on the vermin who were recently chased out of their village. Lesgal and Grenny were both chuckling and talking with each other while Honward was walking beside Tike, clearly aware that the young hare was nervous.

"Don't be scared, mate! They're jus' some thieves with giant swords, nothin' more."

"I…y-yeah, sure. I know. That's not why I'm worried though."

"Really? Then wot's wrong? You scared their stench will kill ya?"

Tike didn't answer. He flicked his eyes at Honward and kept walking forward along with Lesgal and Grenny. The four hares walked up a steep hill, their nostrils scrunching up once they noticed the familiar stench not far away. Once they reached the top of the hill, they glanced out in the distance and saw another campfire. Only this one had a small group of vermin near it, all of whom were busy eating food they recently stole from other goodbeasts. Grenny looked at the vermin down below and snorted.

"That's the dirty li'l fuckers right there!"

Honward looked at all his friends and grinned widely. "Wotcha waitin' for then? Let's make sure they never fuck with our village again, wot!"

The three hares all shouted and followed Hon down the hill as he sprinted for the beasts. The vermin were drunk or half-asleep, but they managed to notice the four young hares screaming at the top of their lungs as they rushed for 'em. Two of the rats messily scrambled for their weapons; one of them tripped over the log he was sitting on, making him an easy target. Lesgal ran right for the fallen beast as he tried to stand up and swung his sabre at his throat, cutting it in half. Honward and Grenny found themselves taking on two of the weasels at the same time while Tike found himself facing a nasty-looking ferret who was missing an eye. But unlike most beasts, he wore no eyepatch, so Tike could clearly see into the ravaged hole. The young hare noticed the various other scars around the ferret's body and huffed.

"Why do _I_ gotta get the ugly one?" he mumbled.

The ferret took out his cutlass and snarled as he swung it at Tike's body. Tike raised his sabre and defended himself, his right paw vibrating as the cutlass smashed into his sword and made it ring. Tike started to back away, watching as the ferret wildly waved his large sword around, the two blades clanging. Tike shouted when the blade flew from his paw; he ducked and rolled out the way when the ferret tried to take his head off. The hare procured his weapon again, this time making sure he held it firmly with both paws. The ferret licked his teeth and snickered.

"Pathetic. Them li'l twats who shat 'emselves in yore village coulda fought better'n ye!"

Tike panted and backed away when the ferret lifted his cutlass high and tried to slice the long-eared beast in half. Tike quickly sidled out the way, letting the ferret's weight lead to his downfall. The one-eyed beast stumbled forward, his sword smacking against the ground. Tike shouted as he swung his sword at the beast's midriff, cutting through his right kidney. The ferret squealed and grabbed his side, panting and dropping his cutlass as he began to bleed. As the ferret started to bleed out, Tike walked in front of the dying ferret and pointed his sword at him. The vermin huffed a few times before he looked at Tike and gritted his teeth. Tike quickly ran his sabre through the beast, and the ferret immediately coughed up blood on his face and clothes. Tike flinched and started to breathe heavily before he pulled out his sword with a wet squelch. The ferret gasped in a wheezy voice, blood dripping down his torso and trickling onto the ground. Then the beast fell down and lay still at Tike's footpaws.

"All right, Tike! Took 'im right in the fuckin' gut!" shouted Lesgal.

Tike turned around, still panting as he noticed that the rest of the vermin had been slain. The other hares had cleaner clothes and didn't seem to be drenched in blood, nor did they seem to look disturbed over what just happened. Tike lowered his sabre and forced himself to smile as he walked over to his friends.

"Heh…looks like you guys ain't did too bad yourselves."

"Pfft! Course not! Like my father said, they're just cowards with big swords, nothin' more!" said Honward.

"Right, um, cowards." Tike flicked his eyes at one of the dead rats whose head was barely attached to his body. "Soooooo…le-let's head home! I'm sure, uh, we'll have a great story to tell the others!"

"Fuck that! These cunts stole from us—they tried to burn down our village! We're stayin' 'ere an' we're gonna eat all the food they stole! An' any other bandit that tries to fuck with us is more'n welcome to join these corpses!"

Tike chuckled. "Um…okay then."

* * *

It was dark by the time they finished making all the vittles. The four friends devoured the food noisily, slurping or drinking, talking with their mouths full. The smell of roasted birds, fresh bread, and sweet desserts filled the hares' noses. The long-eared creatures all chewed on leafy salads, bowls filled with tomatoes, various nuts, sliced apples and several pieces of romaine lettuce. The hares even sampled some of the beer and cordial the creatures stole—they all took a liking to the blueberry cordial, although Grenny seemed to prefer the shrewbeer. As the hares all laughed and feasted on the vermin's vittles, Tike found himself constantly flicking his eyes at the few bodies the hares left on the ground. He couldn't help but notice the flies buzzing around them, the blood having dried and became sticky on the ground. Tike swallowed the piece of roasted bird in his mouth before he exhaled.

"Bugger tripped o'er the log! Didn't even have time to grab his cutlass!" shouted Lesgal.

Tike listened to Lesgal laughing before he turned and looked at Honward.

"Least he didn't whine 'fore he died! I cut down that rat while he was bleedin' out cryin' for his mother!" said Grenny.

Tike swallowed again, flaring his nostrils as he glanced at the bodies. "You…um, shouldn't…shouldn't we bury the bodies?"

Honward scoffed. "Fuck 'em! Let the crows have 'em in the morning!"

Tike blinked. "…Sure."

The young hare started to drone out his friends' voices. He could see them all laughing or pretending to reenact the fight, waving their paws around as though they were still holding their swords. Tike would look at them and force out a laugh, or grin cheekily whenever his mates slapped him on the back for doing such a good job. And then Tike would flare his nostrils and smell the dead beasts again. He'd hear the flies buzzing near his face or behind his body. He'd see the blood on his clothes and fur. Tike stuffed another part of his dead bird into his mouth and chewed very slowly. He looked at the fire, watching as it burned and crackled. He observed the hares chewing on the flesh and bread, drinking the cold cordial or beer nonchalantly. Tike swallowed. And then he almost gagged, feeling the meat as it was caught in his esophagus. He stared at the ferret he stabbed to death earlier. Everytime he blinked, all he saw was the surprised expression on the beast's face before he fell. The young hare ran a paw between his ears and started to stand up.

"I'll-I'll be back shortly. Gotta take a piss," he abruptly said.

"Don't take too long!" Grenny shouted with his mouth full. "This bird might be gone by the time you get back, wot!"

Tike didn't care. He quickly walked away from the campfire, heading out into the woods where nobeast else could see him. He stood in front of a tree and started to breathe heavily, his heart pounding, his face moist with sweat. And then the hare leaned forward and violently emptied his stomach all over the ground. Tike coughed and moaned; the chunky bile was sprayed all over the soil and grass. Tike shuddered and placed his paws on his knees, trying to pull himself together. But he blinked again and saw the ferret's face. The beast retched twice before he finally started to vomit again, emitting a horrible gurgling noise as his sloppy fluids and half-digested food splattered on the ground. By the time the beast finished, he sat on the ground hard with his back pressed against the tree. Tike continued to shake and pant, whimpering as his eyes watered and he felt some of the bile dripping from his lip. The hare's arm shook as he tried to wipe his mouth clean. He kept telling himself to stop blinking—he was tired of seeing the ferret's disgusting, one-eyed face and the surprised expression in his eye seconds before his death.

Tike listened to his friends in the distance, their voices faint. He couldn't go back, not now, not when he was like this. He needed some time to himself—some time to try and forget. That was all he needed—he knew it'd get better if he told himself to forget. He just had to ignore the blood on his clothes, that gaze the ferret gave him, the way those dead beasts smelled. Surely it couldn't be too difficult. That's what he told himself, over and over again.

* * *

Tike slowly approached the wounded ferret, glancing around his body to try and find his wounds. Honward, however, stood in front of the beast, still gripping his sabre tightly as if he was expecting something to go wrong. The ferret grunted as he coughed and fell to his knees, clearly in a lot of pain. Honward slowly walked around the vermin's body, looking closely at his pockets and waistsash.

"Wot is it? Did the Red Sand tribe do this to you?" Tike asked.

"Wa…water…"

Honward stood in front of the ferret and scowled. The beast looked up at him with large, hopeful eyes.

"Wa—"

Hon swiped his sabre at the creature's throat, the metal cutting through his flesh and sending blood onto the ground. Tike backed away and watched as the creature collapsed and a small pool of blood began to emerge.

"Fer fuck's sake, Hon!"

Honward huffed and walked over to the corpse, bending down and searching his pockets. "He had a dagger on him. You can barely see it beneath all his clothing, but it's there."

The hare removed the weapon from the creature's pocket and held it up. Tike scoffed and smacked the dagger away.

"I know it was there—I saw it too! Guy's alone and wandering 'round near the swamps. He'd be an idiot if he _didn't_ have some weapon on him, wot!"

"So you don't think he was some scout who planned on ambushing us?"

"No! Even if he was, you didn't have to kill 'im! We're supposed to capture one of these vermin alive so we can question 'em, remember?"

Honward shrugged. "We'll find another one."

Corporal Bonson pinched the bridge of his muzzle and shut his eyes. "So wot now? There ain't nothin' else out here an' we've yet to find any other beast."

"We head back. The runners an' gallopers can scout ahead and check out the marshes later."

"Fine."

Tike and Honward left the body on the ground and turned away, trudging through the muddy terrain as they headed back to camp. As they started to walk away, Honward blinked and began to slow down, hearing strange noises in the trees.

"Hold up. …You hear that?"

"It's prob'ly just the thunder, Hon. Keep moving."

Tike continued to walk through the mud, but Hon's ears twitched again when he heard the same eerie noise.

" _Getcha…_ "

Honward looked up in the trees; he could've sworn he heard faint laughter somewhere up above. But when he looked in the branches, he saw nothing. A short gust of wind blew against the leaves and branches. Hon managed to hear faint thundering in the distance. And then everything went deathly quiet. The hare spun around and looked up in the trees one more time before he sighed and followed Tike back to camp.

* * *

The rain hit hard only a few hours later. Tike found himself secluded from the rest of the hares, except for Honward. Both of them were underneath a gray tarp, listening as the rain poured down and made the ground even more sodden. Tike was sitting up against one of the trees, staring blankly out in the distance at the water coming down. His friend was lying on his side, snoring noisily as he slept through the downpour. The young corporal glanced at his friend's back and his clothing before staring out into the woods again. He could hear a few other beasts in the distance; Morson was arguing with another individual; some hares were complaining about how cold and damp the weather was now; somebeast was actually glad about the downpour and using the rain to wash off his clothes. Corporal Bonson saw a flash, and his ears twitched as more thunder rumbled in the distance. Tike sighed heavily and started to relax himself. He figured he may as well try to sleep now too; everybeast had calmed down and there were no other vermin nearby. So Tike gradually began to shut his eyes, and he let himself drift off into the dream world.

Until he heard Honward whimpering and snorting. Tike's eyes shot open and he looked at Honward as he twitched violently in his sleep. The sergeant started to cry out, curling his body up into a ball. Tike crawled over to him and grabbed his shoulder.

"Hey, buddy—"

Honward screamed and lashed out. Tike grabbed the sergeant and began to shake him, hoping he'd wake up soon.

"Hon—HON! Calm down—it's just another nightmare!"

Honward kept screaming and lashing his paws forward, clawing at the air and thrashing his legs around. Suddenly, the beast opened his eyes and gasped loudly. The sergeant sat up and started to pant, his eyes watery and his face glistening with sweat. Tike let go of Honward and sat down, listening to Hon as he panted and whimpered. Hon slowly turned and faced Tike, his eyes still watery. Honward sobbed and wiped his eyes dry before he sniffled.

"It happened again, didn't it?"

Honward didn't face Tike. He nodded his head slowly before he sniffled again, still trying to recover.

"It won't…you know it's just a nightmare. It won't—"

"Yes, it will," Honward said quietly.

Tike scooted around beneath the tarp and sat down in front of the sergeant. Honward slowly turned his head away and looked down at the muddy earth. Tike lowered his ears and frowned.

"Why don't you ever tell me about 'em? Jus' talk to me, Hon. Don't you remember when we were leverets? We'd always—"

"We're not leverets anymore, Tike. This…this is different."

"How?"

Hon answered with a grunt. He still wasn't looking at his friend; he couldn't. The sergeant breathed heavily, trying to ignore his nightmare, his tenacious friend who was always trying to delve into his mind. Honward slowly turned towards Tike and noticed that he still hadn't moved. The hares stared at each other, listening to the wind blowing and the rain splattering everywhere. A brief flicker of light brightened the area, only for it to suddenly go away. Honward waited for the cacophonous thunder to subside before he swallowed and finally opened his mouth.

"Th…they're loud, Tike…they're always loud…"

Honward exhaled and shook his head. "It's always the same…every-everytime, I'm just there. Then the gates open. They all…they come for me. And no matter how hard I run, they always catch me. No matter how hard I struggle…they always pull me in. And then the gates slam and…"

Tike blinked. "And wot?"

Honward stared at Tike, but he didn't open his mouth. He tried to think of a way to explain his nightmare further. But he couldn't. The mere images and noises he heard from his dream terrified the beast. Honward took a few soft breaths before he sobbed and began to shake. He couldn't help himself. A teardrop ran down his right cheek, and the hare started to grasp his head.

"I can't sleep, Tike," Hon sobbed. "I'm…every night I fear I'll have the same dream again. This-this always happens! I'm doin' fine, I think I'm past it. An' suddenly, one night, it happens again! An' there's always more an' more of 'em, every time! It keeps getting worse—I see more, I run slower, their grip is always…"

Honward released a few more tears as his body shook. "It's gonna happen, Tike…I know it is; it's gonna happen very soon. One night…I'm…I'm gonna go to sleep. I'm not gonna be able to run away. There's gonna be too many of 'em…an' I'll be stuck in there forever…"

Tike was just as teary-eyed as his friend was. He couldn't help but reach forward and embrace the hare, the same way he did just a few days ago. Honward shut his eyes and started to cry, openly sobbing and sniffling, his nose running as more tears ran down his face.

"I'm scared, Tike," the sergeant blurted out. "They're all comin' for me and there's nothin' I can do to stop them."

Tike sniffled. "We…we'll be okay. Remember, buddy? That-that's wot you told me…that's wot I believe. We'll be fine if we stick together."

Tike shut his eyes and sobbed as he held Hon tighter, his grip almost crushing the hare. "But I'm not lettin' go. Y-you-you hear me? I can't let go of you, Hon. We promised each other we'd-we'd always stick together—"

"Tike—"

"—and we'd always protect one another. So that's wot we're gonna do, okay?" Tike shook his head. "We…we stick together always, right?"

Honward blinked a few times and flared his nostrils. "Always."

The hares didn't resume afterwards. They couldn't anymore. All they could do was hold each other and cry, hoping that Hon's nightmare didn't become a reality.

* * *

He had to talk to other hares. It was the only way he'd get better. Somebeast out there had to know what he was going through, had the right answers to help him solve his current dilemma. But with all the soldiers about, Honward wasn't sure who he should go to first. The sergeant moved around in the rain, letting the cold fluids wash through his clothing and rinse out his fur. He walked passed a few other hares who had no quarrels with being out in the sodden weather, cherishing the downpour with glee. But other beasts were busy using the opportunity to sleep or taking shelter beneath large tarps, waiting the storm out. Those who weren't were busy making sure they still had enough arrows, stones and throwing knives in case there was another ambush, or they were trying to keep their wounds stable. Hon already came across a few hares who were trying not to pick at their scabs or rub off the poultice Lieutenant Hollis put on their bodies. He also, disgustingly, stumbled across some soldiers still suffering from the trots. So the sergeant trotted through the wet, muddy terrain for a few more minutes before he came across Morson Langrove sitting beneath a tarp by himself, grunting as he smacked his head to try and push the water out his ears.

"Lieutenant?"

Morson looked in Honward's direction and snorted once he saw the sergeant leaning down about to walk beneath his tarp.

"Wotcha want, Sarn't?"

Hon shrugged. "Jus' wanted to talk for a moment is all."

Morson scoffed when Honward walked over to him and sat down. "You got nothin' better t'do?"

"No."

Honward pressed his fingers together and bit his lower lip, figuring the best way to deal with Morson was to come out and say what was on his mind.

"I had a nightmare recently. …Not recently—it's happened many times before. It's always the same one, but each time I have it, it's always worse. I thought, y'know, since you've been havin' nightmares recently—"

"I ain't been havin' no fuckin' nightmares, wot!"

Honward huffed. "Right, your 'friend' is. Point is, I'm sure, after bein' in the Long Patrol fer so long, you must've had your share, right?"

Morson suddenly grinned as he stared at Honward. "Ohhhhhhhhh, now I get it! This is all jus' like one big story, right? This is the part of the story where one of the main characters tries to bond with the arsehole side character in hopes of becomin' his new buddy, right? This is the part of the story where the arsehole side character spills his guts an' you all find out his tragic backstory, right? An' then suddenly, he breaks down blubberin' like a babe, an' they hug each other, act like they've been mates fer life!"

Morson leaned forward. "Is that it? Is that wot yer expectin' me t'do?"

Honward curiously lifted an eyebrow and flicked his eyes ahead. "E-erm…no?"

"No, I'm not. So fuck off."

* * *

Honward decided it was best to avoid Morson for now, especially after the strange episode that just occurred. So he went for the next best beast: his very own Badger Lord. He found the valiant leader away from most of his army, standing out in the rain and letting the cold fluids splash against his fur and armor. Honward approached the beast slowly, still cautious after his recent breakdown back in Tearmann. He crept alongside the badger and stood beside him in the rain.

"M'lord?"

Urthquake blinked and turned his head, looking down at the hare with his expressionless face. His eyes were blue again and the giant beast seemed at peace. Honward relaxed himself and exhaled. Urthquake turned his head away and continued to stare ahead, his arms folded.

"Don't you wanna get outta the rain, sah?"

"Everybeast has been whining about how much I stink. This is my bath."

Honward chuckled. "Y'don't stink, sah! Yer just…very aromatic."

Urthquake looked down at Honward's smile and scowled. Honward turned away and awkwardly scratched his head.

"Okay, maybe you could bathe more often…"

"I'm assuming you didn't come here just to talk about my body odour."

"No. But I did wanna talk to you. Mind if we get out the rain first?"

Urthquake nodded, and the two beasts slowly walked over to the giant tarp Urthquake had hanging from the tree branches. Both beasts shook some of the water from their bodies once they got underneath the tarp and sat down.

"So what is it?"

Honward knew his Badger Lord was similar to Morson, so he went ahead and bluntly told Urthquake what was wrong.

"I've been havin' nightmares, sah. It's always the same one, an' it only happens once every couple seasons. But it's…everytime I have it, it's worse than before."

"Why's this so cumbersome now?"

Honward paused and swallowed hard. "I-I don't know wot'll happen if I have this nightmare again, sah. I…I might not wake up next time."

Urthquake rubbed his chin. "So what's this nightmare about?"

"I don't…long story short, I'm standin' in darkness. I look behind me an' this menacing gate opens. A bunch of beasts come out, drag me in, and then the gate shuts."

The Badger Lord blinked. "That's it?"

"You'd be surprised wot they do to me after that gate closes…"

Urthquake shrugged. "Well, I don't need to ask what gate it is you're running from. But maybe that's your problem. You need to stop running, Sergeant. Face it head on; that's why those beasts keep chasing after you. You're giving them a reason to. If you stop running, then all those beasts will get bored, find somebeast else to bother."

Honward shook his head. "I've tried that, sah. Several times. I told Tike right after that Tearmann incident somethin' similar. Everytime I think I'm fine, I have the nightmare again. And it's _always_ the same—the only difference is that there's more beasts after me, and I have less time t'run."

Urthquake sighed heavily. "Not sure what else to tell you then. Truth is I'm still struggling with some of my own nightmares."

Honward's ears perked. "You've been having nightmares too?"

"Yes."

"Can you tell me about 'em?"

"Yes."

Honward and Urthquake suddenly sat in silence. The thundering had finally stopped and the rain was beginning to let up. But both beasts didn't say a word. They stared at each other for many seconds, breathing heavily and blinking from time to time. Honward scratched his head and spoke again.

"Um, m'lord?"

"Hmm?"

"You said you were gonna tell me about your nightmares."

"No, I didn't. I told you I _can_ tell you. But I'm not going to."

"Why not?"

Urthquake went silent again. He turned away from Honward and gazed out at the rain and muddy ground again. Honward stared at the beast, trying to study his movements, the way he looked, how often he blinked. The badger lifted his right paw and bit on the tip of his thumb, almost as if he was forcing himself to keep quiet. He lowered his paw and exhaled slowly, flaring his nostrils. And then Urthquake growled in his throat.

"I still hear them, y'know. Everybeast who died. Everybeast I failed to save. I…I don't have common nightmares anymore, Hon. What I have…when I sleep, I see everything burning. I see beasts being slain for no reason at all. You wanna know what else I see?"

Urthquake started to grin. "I see myself carrying my axe and broadsword. I see vermin blood, organs, and limbs flying in the air. I can almost smell them as they shit themselves, cowering in fear from me before I crush their skulls. My dreams never finish, Hon. They always end in the middle of a battle. I always wake up, and I realize that _this_ , what we're doing, the lives we're all living right now— _this_ is the nightmare. But…but I'll wake up soon, Honward. I'll wake up…everything will be perfect again."

Honward blinked and looked down, realizing that he wasn't the only beast suffering from his current lifestyle. He was about to open his mouth to say something when the badger suddenly looked at him and snarled.

"Who sent you here?"

"I…wot?"

"We've never talked about this sorta thing for a very, _very_ long time. Now, all of a sudden, after that incident in Tearmann, you wanna open up to me? This is all some trick, ain't it? All this nonsense about your nightmares is just a pile of shit comin' out your mouth, isn't it?"

"No! I'm-I'm serious, sah! I just—I thought you might be able t'help me!"

Urthquake leaned so close to Hon's face that he could feel his hot breath on his nose. Honward panted and slowly began to back away. Urthquake snorted and lowered his voice to a guttural growl.

"Oh. So this is all just a coincidence, hmm? Is that what I should believe?"

"Yes! Wh-why—"

"You're spying on me, aren't you? You want me to open up about myself so you can turn it against me, use it to my disadvantage, make me lose my mind."

"NO! Wot's wrong with you, sah?! I just—"

Urthquake reached over and placed a heavy paw in-between the hare's ears. Honward swallowed hard and his eyes grew wide. A sinister grin appeared on the badger's face.

"Do you think I'm insane, Hon?"

"N-no, sah."

Urthquake tightened his grip. "Are you spying on me?"

"No."

Urthquake tightened his grip again. "Are you spying on me?"

"No!"

Urthquake tightened his grip so hard that Honward shouted. The badger pressed his muzzle against the hare's face and growled.

" _Are you spying on me_?"

"NO!"

Urthquake was still grinning, watching as the hare began to panic and tried to pry the badger's massive paw away. The Badger Lord chuckled quietly and loosened his grip. Honward started to pant, flicking his eyes around as he tried to control his heartbeat. Suddenly, the badger rubbed Hon's head slowly, scratching in-between the beast's ears as gently as possible.

"Just point me in the right direction, Sergeant. Tell me who's responsible, who wants to spy on me so badly. You won't be punished if you're just the messenger, I swear."

"I'm tellin' you the truth, sah. Th-there's nobeast spyin' on you; I just…I just wanted to talk to you, that's all!"

Urthquake removed his paw. He lowered his arm and continued to stare at the long-eared beast, watching as his breathing began to slow down and the hare stopped panicking. Honward huffed twice before he wiped some of the sweat off his forehead. Urthquake leaned close towards Hon and flared his nostrils. The sergeant blinked and looked at the badger with a strange glare while Urthquake continued to sniff the hare with his wide nose. The blue-striped beast moved backwards and growled, still grinning at Hon.

"You can go now."

Honward didn't say anything. He quickly got on his footpaws and panted as he started to run away from Urthquake. Urthquake stared at Hon as he ran, hoping he'd lead him back to the hare who told him to spy on him. But Honward disappeared from his sight, and Urthquake was left by himself beneath the tarp.

* * *

He had his back turned. It was right there, not wet, not stale, perfect for eating. A large piece of bannock already cut into several wedges. Surely the medic wouldn't mind; he was only going to take one, or two. Or five. Becker blinked as he slyly crept beneath the tarp and reached forward, wiggling his fingers as he prepared to grab a wedge. And then the captain yelped when Lieutenant Hollis jerked his body around and stabbed at the bannock with a dagger, nearly cutting the chubby hare's paw. Becker blinked and looked at how close the dagger was to his fingers while Hollis glared at Becker angrily.

"Were you tryin' t'steal my snack?"

"No," said Becker meekly.

"Then wot were you doin'? Checkin' to see if it was still warm?"

"Err, yes! That's exactly it, Lieutenant! With all this rain and chilly gusts, I wanted to make sure you didn't try to bite into a cold, soggy lump of bread, wot!"

Becker stood straight up and frowned as he pointed at the lieutenant. "Shame on you, Stink Mouth! Tryin' to take off my bloody paw when all I'm tryin' t'do is help you out!"

"Becker, I'm in no mood fer yore bollocks today. Jus' say you were tryin' to swipe my vittles and make this simple for the both of us."

"Hmph! I say then, that's the last time I bother tryin' to help somebeast—"

Both of them shouted after the loud crash. The body tore right through the tarp, ripping the fabric noisily before collapsing on top of the container the bannock was resting on. Hollis found himself trapped beneath the collapsed tarp, grunting and swearing as he started to rip through it to try and dig his way out. Becker was about to help the lieutenant out when he heard the beast who fell suddenly mumble. The chubby hare looked up into the trees and blinked before looking down at the body. Becker reached down and started to help the beast up, only to realize at the last second he was assisting a weasel.

"Wot the fuck?!"

Becker shouted when the weasel got to her footpaws and lashed at him, slicing at his paw. Her leg broken, the weasel panted as she slowly began to limp away, wincing and swearing as she felt the bone breaking against her skin.

"Stop her!" shouted Hollis.

The hares in the immediate area all took notice of the weasel and surrounded her. The weasel took out two throwing knives and grunted as she clumsily threw them at a few hares pursuing her. But with her busted leg and disorientation from the fall, she failed to hit any of her targets. The weasel huffed and turned back around, only to shout when somebeast punched her to the ground. The weasel shut her eyes and held her muzzle, feeling blood running down her nostrils. She started to open her eyes slowly once she felt booming tremors in the ground. It wasn't long before Urthquake the Tough was standing behind her, reaching down to grab her by the head. The weasel yelped after being hauled off her footpaws; Urthquake growled as he brought her up to his eye level and stared at her.

"Another scout, huh? You part of the Red Sand tribe too?"

The weasel started to breathe heavily, still trying to fight off all her wounds. But she didn't answer the badger, despite how irascible Urthquake was becoming. Urthquake snorted as he started to squeeze harder.

"I won't ask again. Are you part of the Red Sand tribe?!"

The weasel blinked. She kept her mouth shut. Urthquake shook his head and slammed her body on the ground, causing her to scream when the broken bone in her left leg moved and pressed against the skin again. The badger snarled as he started to reach for his broadsword.

"WAIT!"

Urthquake had just grabbed the hilt when he saw Major Fenson sprinting towards the weasel, waving his paws at his Badger Lord and shaking his head.

"D'you forget our plan already? I said we're gonna capture one of 'em and vet them, wot!"

"It's pointless, Fenson. She just broke her leg and she's not even begging us to try and patch it up. You really think she's gonna expose her leader if we agree to let her live?"

"This is our only chance to find the Red Sand tribe an' you know it! If we kill her now, we're gonna be playin' the Waiting Game all over again 'til somebeast else comes by!"

Urthquake stared at Major Fenson's scowl before flicking his eyes over at the weasel and her broken leg. The badger was about to pull out his broadsword when he shut his eyes and started to think for a moment. The major and a few other hares watched as the badger pondered to himself, gradually loosening his grip on his weapon. Urthquake opened his eyes and let go, huffing as he looked down at the weasel.

"Tie her up. I want hares watching her at all times. You don't turn your backs on her; you don't give her anything unless I approve of it; you don't listen to a word she says unless it's about the Red Sand tribe! She's got three days. She doesn't say anything by then, we kill her."

Major Fenson nodded. "Fair enough. Blitzfur! Jadden! Get some rope an' secure the prisoner!"

The young runner and the lieutenant clad in his colorful purple coat with medals pinned to it rushed by carrying rope in their paws. They grabbed the weasel and stood her up, roughly dragging her along the ground, ignoring her everytime she winced or shouted when she tried to stand on her busted leg. Urthquake observed the weasel as the two hares dragged her away. His mood suddenly changed from irritation to gleeful anticipation, and a dark grin began to appear on his face.

There were so many ways the badger could extract information from the weasel…

* * *

The farm was beautiful. A well-crafted windmill was set north of the main houses, the white and red sails slowly spinning each day. Several houses were all made with thick stone and bricks, the walls sturdy, the flooring composed of tough wood. The roofs were tall and spacious, giving each house plenty of room for the beasts to design two floors in most homes. Several rows of healthy soil were located beyond a fence, with hundreds of vegetables sprouting from the ground. Lettuce, fresh greens, radishes, carrots, and different forms of onions all grew from the brown, well-kept fields. An orchard was located beyond one of the main houses; there were so many berry bushes beside the cherry tree that one couldn't walk within a few yards of it without smelling the sweet fruits. An orange grove was located beside the field of plants, the aromatic fruit visible for all to see. Another building beside the fields was under construction—it was a simple building, a mere area for the workers to go relax when they were on break, or to seek shelter from the sun once summer came. Various carts were placed near the fields and orchards as well, all of them pulled by the bulkier, stronger beasts on the farm. The whole place was a perfect foundation for anybeast to peacefully live on.

Krassak Ralfur and his army changed all that. What was once a series of sturdy houses were now various piles of wood, mortar, bricks and stone all scattered on the ground. What used to be a windmill was now mostly ash after Krassak personally set the windmill on fire, the flames only extinguished once it began to rain. The carts had all been broken, bashed apart by the monitors' thick tails. The orchard had been ransacked, all the fruit greedily snatched from the trees and bushes. The giant field used to grow crops was forever tainted, as Krassak and his army used the field as their chamber pot, turning the once fresh soil into a fetid cesspool that attracted bacteria and flies. Nobeast was spared—not the workers who defended themselves with their tools, not the hedgehogs who tried to run away, not even the babes who tried to hide in the ditches or within the cellars. Males and females alike were raped or tortured before the lizards slew them, and the lizards all hungrily tore their flesh apart with their teeth before leaving the scraps for the crows. There was nothing left now except for Krassak and his reptilian beasts.

The rain had stopped. It was almost dark outside. Krassak and Ulwort sat together, staring at the pan they had sitting over the fire. The green lizard grinned as he turned and looked at the two mousemaids whose bodies lay on the ground, the upper half of their heads gone, their brains scooped cleanly out of their skulls. Then Krassak looked at the chopped chunks of flesh sizzling in the pan along with bits of mushrooms and green onions. Ulwort, unable to control himself, stuck his paw right into the pan, grabbing a few brain chunks and some mushrooms. He quickly tossed the hot food into his maw and chewed noisily, mumbling as the juices began to flow around his mouth.

"Iz it finished?" asked Krassak.

Ulwort nodded quickly, still chewing on the meat. Krassak removed the pan from the fire and set it down beside him, waiting for it to cool off. As the monitor waited, he turned around and spotted the heavy orange and black reptile walking towards him shaking his head.

"No ztinky ratz, Mighty One! Lookz like 'e choze not to come!" said Gila.

Krassak shrugged. "Oh well. I'm sure you'll run into him again zoon."

Krassak stuck his paw into the pan and pulled out some green onions and three globs of chopped brains. He shoveled the flavorful meat into his maw and started to chew with his mouth open and drool running down his mandible.

"Now zit down an' eat, Gila! We can't let thiz preciouz food go to wazte!"

Gila grinned and did as he was told. The heavyset lizard sat down beside his leader, shortly before he and Ulwort grabbed more flesh. The three beasts all sat together munching on mouse brains, mushrooms and green onions, all while drooling and staring at the destruction they caused.


	4. No Voice

**XXVIII**

 **No Voice**

 **A/N: The following chapter contains a female-on-male rape scene.**

 **Well it seems like our mysterious guest has returned for more questions. No, I did not plan for that to happen at all with Lady Sesslyn and her army. That just happened, somehow. Sometimes I'll do something unintentionally with my typing and just roll with it without even noticing. Now as for the whole Urthquake and lizard business…**

 **The lizards' role in the series will have a greater impact on certain subplots for sure. Some of them will do more than slaughter beasts in their way or have gross sex. Who knows, some may even become good. But no, some of the lewd scenes that have been going on since Book I are going to continue because that's just how Krassak Ralfur and his army are. Some of it is there to be there, while other scenes will affect characters in different ways, such as the rape scene back in Chapter 2.**

 **As for Urthquake, he may do more shocking stuff. He may not. But Urthquake is nowhere near as bad as the lizards when it comes to all the violent stuff he does. However, his head is as hard as his giant fists; he's not subtle. Ultimately, I can't "make" Urthquake not do something.** _ **He**_ **has to choose to** _ **not**_ **do it.**

 **Long story short, Urthquake has to decide on his own if he'll break out of his typical insane, brutal behavior. It'll probably take some time before that happens. As for the lizards, yes. They're going to do more disgusting stuff—some of which will have a purpose behind it, some of which will just be in there to "gross out" the audience. Because why not. :p**

* * *

It was better if he stayed on the ground. Soon enough, everybeast would get bored of kicking him. The chubby rat coughed up blood before he let out a shaky breath, still whimpering. It worked all those times before. Surely enough, it'd work right now. Just lie still. Be quiet. They'll leave me alone soon, he told himself. One of the mice kicked the rat in the stomach, causing him to grunt and wince. The same mouse crouched down and grinned as he got in the rat's face.

"Get up," the young mouse said.

The rat took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes. The mouse responded by kicking him in the nose.

"I said get up ya fat fuck! We ain't standin' 'ere jus' to watch some twat cower down in the grass!"

But the rat didn't move. He couldn't. Not with all these mice constantly breathing down his neck, ready to tear him to shreds. It was six against one—the rat knew he couldn't possibly do anything about his situation. So he laid still and took it, knowing it'd be over soon. The leader of the gang of mice scoffed as he shook his head and kicked the rat one last time.

"Let's go. We got better shit t'do anyways."

"Have fun eatin' that dirt fer dinner! S'all yer gonna get tonight!"

The rat listened as the mice started to walk away, all of them laughing and calling the fat rodent spiteful names. The plump beasts stopped shaking and began to sniffle as tears ran down his face.

* * *

Razzik was sitting down by the campfire and sharpening his cutlass with the smooth stone. He looked over at Turvin and Slipfoot, watching the two beasts as they gazed at the holt.

"How many?" the rat asked.

"Hard t'say. Looks like fifteen, maybe a score," responded Turvin.

Slipfoot didn't answer. He kept looking at the holt, wiggling his nose and smacking his lips. Razzik looked at his sharpened cutlass before he slid it into its sheath and walked over to the trackers. He crouched down beside them, looking at all the otters in the distance. He couldn't see where the lizards were, but he was certain that the two captives were nearby, probably being tortured for information. The rodent scratched his head before he looked at the stoat counting all her pebbles.

"So wot's the captain wa-wanting you t'do?"

"It's none of yer concern," said Slipfoot.

"Why not? Don't, um, don't you two need some help?"

"Three's a crowd, Razzik."

The rat blinked. "You had four beasts in yore group before. Now yer sayin' that _three_ is too much?"

Turvin exhaled. "We still need time, Razzik. We're not sure who else t'replace Longfang an' Dead-Eye."

"I'm not askin' to replace 'em. Nobeast can do that. B-but y'know…trackin' would be easier with another set of eyes."

Razzik looked at Slipfoot and smirked before he nudged him with his shoulder. "'Sides, it's like Blowhorn said, the rats that stick together, stink together!"

Slipfoot glared at Razzik with a long scowl. Razzik frowned and meekly scratched the back of his head.

"Yeah, err…never mind then."

Razzik stood up and began to walk away. He was about to return to the campfire when he heard the stoat call out his name.

"Hold up, hold up! Get back o'er here!"

The rat's ears perked as he turned around and saw Turvin waving him towards her. He jogged along the grass and crouched down beside her again.

"Wot?"

Turvin sniffed. "How good are ya up close?"

"Up close?"

"D'you prefer a bow an' arrow or gettin' behind somebeast an' snappin' their neck?"

"Err…the second one. I'm not the, um, best when it comes to archery."

"Wot about usin' knives t'throw?" asked Slipfoot.

"No."

"Wot about slings?"

"Trust me; you do _not_ want t'put a sling in my paws."

Turvin sighed heavily. "Fine. You wanna 'elp us? Then make sure you do wot we say. There's some otters down o'er there, by the tree near one of the huts. You get behind one of 'em an' kill 'em—do not make a single sound."

"B-but wot about the other otters?"

"We'll take care of 'em," Slipfoot chimed in. "We'll make sure to kill 'em before they alert anybeast. But if you cock it up, that'll make this whole situation much harder fer us."

"Couldn't we just rush 'em, slay all the otters? It-it's only a score of 'em, right?"

"Of course we _can_ ," Turvin started. "But then the otters might kill the lizards before we get to 'em. Can't have that, now can we?"

Razzik's whiskers moved slightly, moments before he started to reach for his knife. "No, I s'pose not."

"Good! Now get down there. We'll cover you from the trees."

The two vermin quickly scrambled up into the tall trees. One moment they were there, the next both of them were out of Razzik's line of sight. He gazed at the huts, trying to guess how many otters he'd have to slay on his own. Razzik exhaled softly and headed straight for one of the trees at the bottom of the hill. He crept towards it, crouching down, trying to conceal himself. The sky was still gray and pale from yesterday; Razzik doubt it would clear up anytime soon. The rat heard a twig snap and immediately hit the ground. He let out a few loud breaths before shutting his mouth and breathing quietly through his nose. He watched as a worm began to edge its way near his muzzle. He felt the moist soil against his toes, the soft earth pressing against his stomach and dirty clothes. Razzik, curious, lifted his head and looked up. He saw Turvin and Slipfoot now, standing on high branches in the trees just ahead of him. Turvin looked down at the rat and held up three fingers.

She nodded and gestured him to move forward with a thumb. The rat nodded, and he got up and slid down the hill. Razzik panted and immediately pressed his back near one of the trees down below, shutting his eyes and swearing after hearing brief chatter. He moved his head around, peeking past the corner of the tree. There they were, the otters all dressed in tribal clothing, only wearing loincloths or plaid blue kilts. Their fur was blue or black, and all the otters looked massive, some nearly the size of Ishlin. Razzik swallowed hard when he noticed the broad otter with tribal markings all over his back holding a lengthy javelin. He looked down at the small dagger in his waistsash and swore, knowing it wouldn't be enough to kill him. The rodent was about to remove his cutlass, but the moment he started to pull it out the sheath, the blade made its trademark scraping sound. Razzik shut his eyes and let go. All he had were his paws and the dagger. He crouched down and lied flat on the soil, grunting as he dragged his body along the dirt towards the three otters. He lifted his head slightly, staring at the three beasts with their backs turned.

Razzik thought about rushing them, until two of the beasts turned around and began to spread out. The big one was blinking and moving around the first hut, while one of the skinnier beasts grunted as he sniffed the air and snorted. The rat held his dagger firmly and lay still, waiting for the beasts to stop moving. The big otter spat on the ground while the skinnier one loosened his grip on his javelin. He twirled it around a few times before he walked back over to the third otter. Razzik gradually lifted his head, his muzzle barely sticking out of some bushes and leaves. He grabbed a pebble and threw it, swearing once he missed one of the otters. The rat picked up a second one and chucked it against the back of one otter's head. The otter shouted and jerked around, gripping his javelin and wiggling his nose.

"Stay there. Prob'ly jus' some—"

"No. We ain't takin' chances. Could be 'nutha one o' them lizards lookin' fer their mates."

Razzik swore. Both otters were coming towards him now. He crouched down again. His heart began to beat faster as he panted softly. He could hear them all now, their footpaws crushing all the leaves and kicking up some of the soil. Razzik looked up, waiting, hoping Turvin and Slipfoot would follow through with their plan. The otters were so close Razzik thought they were about to step on him. He couldn't wait. Razzik sprang and attacked. He lifted his left paw and used it to cover the otter's maw. Then he used his right paw to plunge his dagger into the beast's midriff. The rat and otter toppled over, with the former lying on top of the latter. Razzik panted as he removed his dagger and stabbed the beast again and again, his blade squelching as it punctured the flesh and fat. The otter let out a few muffled grunts and whimpers, but then he lied still. Razzik heard a meaty _thunk,_ followed by an object smacking against something hard. Then he heard two thuds, and the rat saw the other otters' bodies on the ground. Razzik opened his mouth and started to breathe heavily, still shaking after the ordeal. He stood up, taking note of the burly otter with an arrow in his throat and the third otter with a reddish dent on the left side of his skull.

The rat looked up into the trees again and saw Turvin and Slipfoot looking down at him. Turvin nodded and gestured for him to move forward again. Razzik shook some of the blood from his dagger before he blinked and resumed heading towards the holt.

* * *

"Who did it?"

The rat looked down. The dirt was more interesting and less hostile than his step-father. The tall mouse glared down at him, scowling, waiting for the rat to confess. The older mouse flicked his eyes between the two beasts and sniffed.

"I'm not gonna ask again. Who did it? Who stole from Ms. Carlyle?"

"Razzik! He-he's always stealin' sh—stuff from everybeast! Can't even put down a sandwich without his fat ass takin' it!"

Razzik's step-father stared at him while the rodent continued to look at the ground. Then he turned back over and looked at the young mouse standing beside the rat.

"Yes, of course. He's always stealing from other beasts. He's vermin—that's what they do, right?"

"That's exactly right, Father!"

"Then why was your medal seen inside her hut? You didn't, uh, lose it by any chance trying to climb out her window, did you, Bucklee?"

Bucklee's eyes grew wide. "I—um—I-I didn't…R-Razzik stole that too!"

Bucklee shouted when his father grabbed him by the ear and snorted noisily. The larger mouse walked up to his son and started to speak in a guttural tone.

"You know what they do in certain parts of this world when you steal, son? They chop off your paw."

Bucklee started to whimper when his father tightened his grip. "You want me to chop off your paw?"

"No! No, no—I-I'm sorry, Father! But she was just—"

"I'm sure you won't mind having a few new scars added to your back, right?"

And just like that, the older mouse started to drag Bucklee away as the mouse started kicking and screaming. Razzik finally raised his head, blinking as he watched the older mouse shove Bucklee against one of the poles and began to tie his paws around it. Razzik didn't grin or stare at the two mice with glee. He just watched it happen, not feeling much of anything.

"Do I even need to ask?"

Razzik glanced to his right and saw the other older mouse looking down at him. He blinked and looked away, knowing it'd be better if he didn't answer.

"Should we tie you up to that pole next to your brother?"

"He's not—" Razzik winced when he heard Bucklee scream. The mouse's shirt had been ripped off and his father was holding a large whip in his paws. "He's not my brother."

"Why? 'Cause you're not the same species?"

Razzik winced again; he could hear Bucklee sobbing now. "That's not…"

"You're not the same species as Losan and I. Yet the two of us raised you like we raised our own son. We could have left you there, you know. Losan _wanted_ to leave you. I'm sure you don't remember, right?"

"M…'member wot?"

"We found you in the middle of the swamps. This fat li'l…clump of fur, naked, moving around rippin' up shrooms an' liverworts to eat. You were covered in so much muck we couldn't even tell what colour your fur was. Losan looked at you like you were some… _thing_ , like some germ he didn't want to touch. He told me to leave you, let the bog swallow you up. But all I saw was another poor beast whose parents abandoned him. Or maybe your parents died, and you were left to wander around on your own."

Razzik looked down at the ground again, wincing once he heard two loud thwacks and saw Bucklee flinching. Razzik's step-mother put a paw on his shoulder and blinked.

"I know it must be hard. I know beasts like us always stare at beasts like you, talk behind your back. But we did not rescue you from that swamp so you could constantly get into fights with us."

"B-but he started it! He always—"

"I don't care. The two of you need to figure out how to get along. One day Bucklee is going to need your help. One day you'll need his. So stop holding grudges against other beasts and start making friends. You never know when you'll need 'em."

The mouse moved her paw up and patted Razzik's head a few times before she walked away. The plump black rat observed his step-mother walking before he flicked his eyes at Losan and Bucklee. The young mouse was still crying and sniffling, his back raw and bloody from all the lashes he received. Razzik grimaced, knowing full well that he easily could've been the one tied to that post instead.

* * *

Razzik was at the hut now, crouched down and listening to the otters' conversations. He pressed his left ear against the back of the straw hut, hoping he'd hear something important. But most of their voices were soft and hushed—he could only make out a few names and the otters mentioning the disgusting lizards. The black rat blinked and started to step towards his right. He could make out the center of the small holt; the rat spotted the pile of logs resting in the middle of the community. He could hear the water from Northfork Stream babbling several yards away, containing enough fish and shrimp to feed the holt for several seasons. Razzik gazed at the tall hill up ahead, only a few yards from the river. A large hole had been dug at the base of it—big enough for somebeast like Jenrik to walk inside. Razzik swore quietly when he saw more otters walking outside, the playful creatures heading over to bathe themselves in the river or catch more shrimp. The rat moved away from the hut and looked up into the trees, gesturing for Turvin and Slipfoot to regroup with him. Razzik ran a safe distance away from the huts and crouched down near a few bushes and several roots. Turvin and Slipfoot reached the ground and looked at Razzik with confusion.

"I didn't see 'em," Razzik announced.

"Did you look?" Slipfoot snapped.

Razzik ignored him. "They're not near the huts; I would've heard 'em by now. Hell, I can't even detect their scent. It's too faint."

Turvin scoffed. "So that fox lied to us."

"Well, no. I, err, I did—I found this cave…it's a few yards west, near the stream. Spotted some otters comin' outta there."

Turvin raised an eyebrow. "So wot's all this then? A display, just some huts messily thrown together fer show?"

Slipfoot stared at the huts for a moment before he frowned. "It's a decoy. If somebeast tried to attack the holt, they'd just think it's a tiny li'l village with a few otters roamin' 'round. But the second the assailants think they just wiped out the village—"

"—the otters hidin' inside the cave will come out and slaughter everybeast in sight," Razzik finished.

Turvin slammed her fist against the tree. "So there could be three times as many otters in there. Shit!"

Razzik stared at the two trackers, flicking his eyes between them as they began to ponder.

"Wot do we do? Should we get Kurwin, have 'im lead an as-assault on the holt?"

"As I said before, we need to find the lizards _before_ we do anythin' drastic. We rush 'em now, they'll kill the lizards. An' if there's upwards of two, maybe threescore otters 'round here, it'd be best if we avoid a fight. We lost enough beasts fightin' the MSB—we can't lose more o'er the sake of two lizards."

"Th-then we'll find another way inside. I'm sure we can sneak—"

"No, there's too many. Plus we don't know how dark it is in there."

"So-so, let's, um, let's draw 'em away? Maybe a distraction?"

Turvin rubbed her chin and blinked. "That's actually not a bad idea. An' I know just who to use."

The trio returned to their campsite further uphill. They walked over to a group of ferrets and rats talking together and spotted Blowhorn sitting on the ground chugging a large bottle of cold milk. Turvin walked over to the noisome rat and kicked him in the legs to get his attention. Blowhorn lowered the bottle and wiped his mouth clean.

"Wot?"

"We need yer help with a li'l somethin'."

Blowhorn chuckled as he slowly stood up, grinning as he looked at Razzik and the trackers. "Really now? An' wot is it yew all need my help with?"

Turvin folded her arms. "How fast can ya run?"

Blowhorn looked at Slipfoot and Turvin's malicious grins. The rat slowly began to frown, his tail becoming limp.

"Shit."

* * *

He wasn't little anymore. Neither was Bucklee. It was time for them to set their differences aside. It was time for them to start being friends. And it was time for them to get drunk. The mouse and rat both hooted with laughter as they walked towards their village, clutching their bottles of grog in their paws. The heavyset rat put his arm around Bucklee's shoulders, trying to balance him as they walked further and further. Bucklee shook his head and told the rodent to stop walking, at which point he hiccupped and sniffed.

"I'm s…ssssslackee…hehe, fuckin' grog."

"Buckeee, s-shush…we gotta-HIC!-we gotta head back 'fore…'fore we're caught."

The mouse and rat slowly waddled their way towards the village, with the former dropping his bottle and the latter desperately trying to keep his bile down. Razzik panted a few times as he dragged his footpaws along the ground. By the time the two beasts reached the village, Bucklee was on the ground mumbling, thinking the soil was a dirty pillow. Razzik stumbled into the village, laughing again as he raised his bottle and started to scream.

"YORE DIRTY RAT IS BACK HOOOOOOME!"

All the mice still awake looked at the tumultuous rat as he laughed and tried to drag his footpaws through the soil. Then he stopped and dropped his bottle, breathing heavily and snickering. He opened his mouth to say something else. But what came out was a large torrent of vomit, the fluids and chunks of food splattering onto the ground in several directions. Razzik coughed and spat on the ground a few times, the vomit and saliva still hanging off his mandible. As the rodent began to look up, he laughed softly as two beasts walked in front of him.

"Oh…h-hello, Losan, Yelty."

Razzik slowly crouched down and picked up his fallen bottle, giggling as he held it in front of his step-parents' faces.

"Grog?"

Losan shut his eyes and rubbed his forehead, sighing. "Deal with him. I'll get Bucklee."

Yelty nodded. "Okay."

The mouse stood behind Razzik and started to guide him towards their hut, holding the rat gently as she tried to make sure he didn't fall over again.

"We told you two to have fun, not to drown yourselves with this trash."

"B-but we…we diiiid, Yelty! Had lotsa-lotsa fun! Such…yummy fluids!"

"Where'd you get that grog anyway?"

Razzik grinned and held a finger up to his lips before he made a soft shushing noise. "S'a secret!"

Yelty and Razzik arrived at the hut. The mouse continued to drag Razzik through the building, heading over towards the hut's bedroom. She stood the inebriated rat beside the mattress before slowly setting his body down on the piece of furniture.

"Y…Yel…we-we ain't—"

"Just be quiet, Razzik. Get some sleep. Losan and I will talk to you two in the mornin'."

Razzik could already feel his vision becoming blurry. He struggled to keep his eyes open, but he could just make out his step-mother's rosy face and half-smile.

"Y…not mad? N-not mad at me?"

Yelty smiled and shook her head. "Of course not. You two were celebrating a week after your birthdays. Losan and I have had our share of drunken mishaps as well. It's nothin' a simple conversation can't fix."

Razzik mumbled something, but Yelty couldn't make it out. The mouse chuckled before she rubbed Razzik's scalp.

"Get some sleep, Razzik."

"Nnnnn…eh, nighty-night…"

The mouse moved away from Razzik's bed and began to walk outside, while the drunken rat mumbled and gradually closed his eyes.

* * *

The tweeting birds were the first thing he heard. Although to Razzik, he thought it was glass scraping inside his skull. The black rat shivered and moaned, still tasting the creamy vomit in the back of his throat. The rat wiggled his nose, scrunching up his face once he smelled urine. Razzik moved his legs slightly and swore once he noticed how damp they were. The rat opened his eyes, the watery orbs red and filled with sleep. He rubbed some of the crumbs from his eyes before whining, his head throbbing. Razzik slowly turned on the mattress and faced forward, blinking once he saw Yelty near the doorway.

"Feeling better?"

Razzik mumbled. "My head hurts…"

The slender mouse smiled as she walked inside the rat's room. "That's natural. Perhaps you shouldn't have consumed so much of that grog last night."

Razzik rubbed his head as he tried to sit up, only for Yelty to raise a paw, signaling him to stop.

"Just lie down, Razzik. Relax. I'm sure you must be tired after last night…or perhaps you're still excited?"

Razzik wasn't sure what Yelty meant at first. The rodent started to look around the hut before he felt something twitching in his damp trousers. Razzik looked down at the bulge in-between his legs and started to pant. He muttered and swore as he reached forward and tried to hide it, hoping Yelty didn't see anything. But she was already giggling and wagging her tail slowly.

"It's okay honey. That's perfectly natural. Just means you…hmm. When was the last time you stroked yourself?"

"I-I…c-can I talk to Losan 'bout that? Um…you—"

"I understand. You're not comfortable yet."

Razzik couldn't comprehend what was happening. Yelty wasn't angry or disappointed at him. She was acting as casual as ever. The black rat watched as the mouse started to undo her dress. And then his eyes grew wide as the clothing fell, revealing the white mouse's smooth, slender body. Razzik's heart began to beat fast. He couldn't stop staring at her, looking at the tiny nipples, the neatly washed and combed fur. She seemed skinnier without the dress on—her stomach was flat, although her thighs were wider than Razzik thought. He stammered when he flicked his eyes down at the area in-between her legs. He'd seen it before, only when he accidentally came across other females bathing. But he had never seen his own step-mother like this. But here she was, naked, smiling down at the rat nonchalantly. Razzik's bulge twitched twice, and the rodent moaned and tried to grab his erection, thinking forcing it down would make it go away. Yelty giggled as she walked in front of the rat's bed.

"That won't work, darling. There's only one way to get rid of your excitement."

Razzik began to pant when Yelty crawled on top of the bed, towering over the rat.

"W-wot…wot are you doin'?"

Yelty blinked. "Y'know, my father…he made me a full-grown female when I was only thirteen seasons. I've seen other beasts get married at that age. I've seen other beasts have children at your age, Razzik. And you're only eighteen. Neither you nor Bucklee have ever mated with a female, have you?"

Razzik whimpered. "N-no…"

Yelty's smile was suddenly turning into a lustful, almost smug smirk. "Then perhaps it's time…you're eighteen now. And my gift to you is another woman's soft, sensual touch…the warmth of her moist assets…you'll be a full-grown male after today, Razzik. It'll be glorious."

"Get out."

Razzik started to pant and whimper. He tried to crawl backwards, but the mouse pressed down on his stomach very hard. His headache and last night's drunken episode rendered the rat disoriented, confused. He still felt weak, even as he tried to slide off the mattress. Yelty used her free paw to grab Razzik's damp shorts. She pulled them down slowly, watching as his throbbing shaft flopped out. Yelty giggled as she looked at the tip, watching a small amount of pre-ejaculate dribble out.

"Look at you, Razzik! You've grown so much, haven't you?"

"Please stop," Razzik whimpered, his eyes tearing up.

The rat watched as Yelty lowered her head, opening her mouth so she could take in the beast's penis. Razzik's spine shivered as she started to suck on it, making little noise as she moistened the shaft with her slick saliva. She only sucked for a few seconds before she raised her head and stared at Razzik with the same smile again.

"Stop it. Get off!" Razzik shouted.

"It will only last a few minutes, honey. Then you'll see. You'll understand how wonderful—"

Razzik reached up and slapped Yelty across the face. He tried to get off the bed, but Yelty slammed him back down, pinning him to the mattress with her paws. The rat tried to thrash his legs around, but the mouse was already on top of him. He was about to call for help, but Yelty was ahead of him. She reached down and covered his muzzle with a paw, listening to the rat mumble and swear. Then Yelty shouted as Razzik bit one of her fingers, drawing blood. She retaliated by punching him in the nose, worsening his headache. Razzik moaned, his vision blurred, his heart still beating fast as Yelty lowered herself.

"Stop fighting it! Ignore what your brain is telling you! Your body is aroused—you want this to happen!"

"NO!"

"Just hold still! Just…five minutes. Then after that, it'll be over."

Razzik was still trying to fight back. But his headache and the presence of grog and other fluids in his body made him feel weak, helpless. He lied there, shaking his head, whining and trying to raise his paws. But Yelty continued to smack them away, her vulva hovering just above his thick shaft. Yelty kept lowering herself. And then the shouting stopped. Razzik heard a faint squish. He felt his shaft sliding inside his step-mother's vulva. Yelty opened her mouth and shivered, moments before she moaned. She squatted down all the way, taking in the beast's penis without batting an eye. She waited, and Razzik whimpered, not sure what to do now. He grasped his bed, staring at the mouse's waist and groin. Suddenly, she began to move herself up and down slowly. Yelty moaned twice, closing her eyes. Razzik felt more fluids around her vulva. He could feel it swelling; he could feel all the moistness of the mouse. So much liquid… It didn't seem natural. None of this did. He knew what sex was. He stumbled across other beasts doing it before. He stroked himself as he spied on them, wondering what it would feel like one day.

This wasn't what he imagined. The rat was still whimpering, his eyes watering as the mouse continued to move up and down along his length, sighing and moaning as his penis found its way into her vagina. Razzik told himself to move, told himself to shove the creature off of him. But his body wouldn't let him. He couldn't understand it. The rat reached up and tried to grab Yelty again, hoping she'd stop and go away. But she slapped his paws and started to go faster. Razzik opened his mouth and started to scream, shutting his eyes, not wanting to look. But he could still hear her moan as the vulva rubbed against his meaty member. Razzik screamed again, hoping somebeast would come inside and get this mouse off of him. Yelty stopped, but only so she could snatch a piece of cloth off the bed and shove it inside Razzik's mouth. The black creature gurgled and moaned with his mouth full, still waiting for help. Yelty's moans became more vocal; the mouse was so vociferous that nobeast could've heard Razzik's sobs over her.

Razzik jerked his head around and tried to get the mouse off. Yelty let out a few shrill pants before she opened her mouth wide and released a tiny squeak. She slammed herself down, her labia grinding against Razzik's crotch. He couldn't hold it. Razzik shut his eyes, his legs shaking as his groin started to tingle. The rat whimpered as he felt fluids coming out in strong bursts. His seed flowed into the mouse, the milky substance spreading around her vaginal region. Yelty shouted and panted, reaching her orgasm as well. And then all Razzik could feel were the fluids. Her creamy liquids mixed with his thick seed, the substance squishing and oozing around his wet shaft. The two beasts stayed still for a while, letting their bodies relax, waiting until all the fluids were gone. And then silence. Yelty stared at Razzik, gazing at his pitiful face, before she slowly got up. Razzik saw more fluids dripping from her vulva and watched as his shaft started to become flaccid. The mouse sighed as she got off the bed, standing beside Razzik and reaching down to remove the cloth.

"There…that wasn't so bad. See? Don't you feel better now?"

Razzik couldn't even look at the mouse. He stared up at the ceiling, breathing heavily and whimpering with a tiny voice. Yelty giggled as she bent down and proceeded to put her dress back on.

"It's okay, Razzik. I was surprised my first time too. Everybeast is. But soon…soon you'll enjoy it. Soon you'll have your own experiences. And I'm sure that, one day, you'll remember what happened here and thank me."

Fuck you, you ungrateful cunt. Razzik wanted to say that out loud, but he still felt paralyzed. Yelty calmly exited the rat's room, leaving him still exposed and confused. The rat managed to find the strength to lift his arms and press his paws against his face. And then his body shook as he started crying.

* * *

Their plan was flawless, so long as Blowhorn didn't mess it up. The two rats waited in the distance, watching as Turvin and Blowhorn crept towards the village. Razzik clutched the hilt of his cutlass, ready to attack is necessary.

"He give the signal yet?" the rat asked.

Slipfoot shook his head. "Just wait a li'l longer."

Razzik blinked as he kept staring at the huts. The rat watched as Blowhorn suddenly stood up and proceeded to throw something at one of the otters. Razzik and Slipfoot heard him shout an insult, moments before he taunted them by turning around and slapping his behind. Slipfoot chuckled when he saw a stone fly through the air, narrowly missing Blowhorn's ear. Then Blowhorn turned tail and began to run, sprinting away as the otters gave chase. The two rodents stared at the cave, listening as one of the otters called for more help. Several otters began to sprint out the dark cave and chased after Blowhorn. Razzik scratched his head.

"That worked? How the hell—"

"Who gives a shit? All them riverdogs are thick-headed lugs—may as well 'ave stones fer brains. Let's go!"

Razzik still felt like he was walking into a trap. But he saw that the way to the cave was clear now, and Slipfoot was sprinting towards it with no hesitation. The rat blinked and ignored his apprehensions before he ran beside the tracker towards the entrance inside the hill. The moment they got inside, Razzik began to slow down. A familiar, noisome odor started to fill his lungs, making his spine shiver. Slipfoot noticed that Razzik stopped running and turned around.

"C'mon, let's go! Ain't no tellin' when they'll be back!"

"Huh? …Y-yeah, let's keep goin'."

He knew something was wrong. The whole situation didn't feel right. He knew nothing about these lizards; his crew knew very little about Darktail. Yet they chose to trust him, hoping he was another ally and not some conniving beast trying to tear the crew apart. The two rats stepped in a puddle, traversing through the murky cave as they heard strange hissing and the smell grew stronger. Razzik and Slipfoot saw an orange glow in the distance and took a path to their right. Then Razzik froze. He wasn't frightened by the three otters standing beside the campfire. It was the two burly lizards they had tied to the wooden stakes. Monitors. Razzik started to breathe heavily as he looked at Slipfoot.

"Go back," he whispered.

"Wot? They're right there; we can't leave now."

"Those are monitors, Slipfoot! We can't—"

One of the otters turned around and saw part of the rats' shadows in the distance. She blinked and immediately took out her sword, stomping towards the corner the beasts were hiding behind. The rats didn't have time to think or hide. Slipfoot took out one of his throwing knives and tossed it at the otter, hitting her in the throat. Razzik swore as he rushed towards the other two otters, sword in paw. One of them took out his weapon and started to slash at the rat's body, only to gurgle as Razzik ducked and ran him through. The last otter was about to stab Razzik in the back, only to yelp as a throwing knife found its way into the back of his neck. Slipfoot shoved the body away, panting as he looked at the two monitors. One of them was light green while the other was black with blue spots. Both of their bodies were bloody and cut up from being tortured for so long, with the light green monitor's left eye nearly swollen shut.

"Cut 'em loose. Sooner we get outta here, the better," said Slipfoot.

Razzik stared at the blue-spotted monitor with a scowl on his face, the vile beast hissing at him and grinning. The rat held his tongue, walking behind the stake and cutting through the rope that bound the lizard's paws together. The monitor sighed as he was freed and rubbed his wrists, shortly before Razzik shoved him forward. Razzik turned around and saw Slipfoot releasing the other lizard as well. The four beasts started to run through the cave.

"Let's go! Ain't no tellin' when those otters will be back!"

They started to head for the entrance, moving through the watery, dank cave until they could see the light outside. But the rats' victory was short lived, as they arrived in the open to find Turvin and Blowhorn on their knees, with the rest of the otters crowding around them wielding their weapons. Razzik and Slipfoot frowned and flicked their eyes at each other, while the lizards started to grin.

"We're gonna make this simple," said the otter holding a knife near Blowhorn's throat. "You give them monitors back t'us, we'll let yer mates go. Savvy?"

Slipfoot flicked his eyes in the distance and smirked. He shook his head. "Sorry mate! That ain't gonna work fer us!"

The otter spoke again. "Yer outnumbered. My otters'll cut you down before you c'n lift them swords. D'you really think you can get outta this alive?"

"Of course I do!"

"How's that?"

Slipfoot folded his arms. "With my friends."

The otter was about to say something else when he heard footsteps in the distance. Some of the otters started to flare their nostrils while the others flicked their ears and began to turn around. Two arrows suddenly found their way through two otters, and the sleek beasts' eyes dilated as dozens of corsairs surrounded them. The otter holding Blowhorn hostage turned his head around and started to pant. All the pirates walked close to the otters and the trackers, ready to slay them all if need be.

"You beasts take another step an' we'll kill 'em! That's a promise!" the otter shouted.

"I s'pose I'll just have t'find more trackers then, won't I?"

Razzik looked into the crowd of vermin and saw Kurwin walk out into the open. He grinned as he looked at all the otters and removed his cutlass slowly.

"I'll make this simple fer you riverdogs: you're surrounded. We're all gonna slaughter you in mere seconds if you try t'fight us. Those of you we don't kill, we'll rape an' abuse an' use as our slaves, an' so on an' so forth. I've been in this position too many times to count. Jus' save me the trouble an' give me wot I want."

The otter blinked. "Wot is it that you want?"

Kurwin grinned as he pointed at the two lizards. "Those beasts up there. An' I want my trackers back, unharmed, an' very much alive. It's that simple. You really wanna stand there an' die all 'cos of two lizards?"

"No. But I don't wanna stand 'ere an' die after I comply with yer demands either."

Kurwin shook his head. "You won't. If I wanted to slay all ye beasts, I woulda done it when I was sneaking up on ya. You don't wanna lose more otters. I don't wanna lose more corsairs. So give me wot I want, an' then yer free t'leave."

Razzik knew the otters would let them go. They had to. The otters wouldn't martyr themselves for the sake of two prisoners. The rat flicked his eyes between Kurwin and the otters, waiting for the inevitable to happen. A few more words were exchanged, and then the otter removed his knife and kicked Blowhorn forward. The other beast holding Turvin hostage let her go as well, and the trackers returned to the crowd of pirates. The otter muttered something at Kurwin and spat at his footpaws before he gestured for the rest of the otters to retreat. Razzik and Slipfoot waited until they were out of their line of sight before they walked up to the crew with the lizards beside them. Razzik continued to scowl at the lizard beside him just as Darktail showed himself, shoving his ways past a few corsairs so he could greet the monitors.

"There, see? Now was this so hard, Kurwin?" the fox asked.

Darktail smirked at the captain before he walked up to the two reptilian beasts. "I believe a thank you is in order?"

"Get the fuck out my way," the green monitor snarled, shoving Darktail down in a pile of mud.

The monitors walked over to the corsairs and started to grin and hiss noisily, flaring their nostrils around the vermin.

"Ooooh, zo many beaztz, Izzlak!" shouted the green monitor.

Isslak walked up towards Kronno and growled, wagging his thick tail as he sniffed her. "Many foxez too! Hmph…I like foxez…"

Kronno scrunched up her face before she shoved Isslak away. "Back the fuck up."

The blue-spotted monitor chuckled. "Plenty of meat here, Dazz!"

Dass nodded. "Yez. Krazzak will be pleazed!"

Razzik swore silently while a few other pirates started to look at the lizards questionably. The black rat started to step towards Dass, his dagger drawn.

"Wot was that? S-say that name again."

Dass turned around and licked his choppers. "Krazzak Ralfur!"

"The Almighty Monitor an' ruler of all lizardz!" Isslak added.

Razzik blinked. "Son of a bitch."

"Wait a tick—ain't he the one who slew all our pirates a while ago?" asked Stinkfoot.

Everybeast started clamoring. Razzik looked left and right as some pirates scratched their heads or talked softly about the beast that slaughtered all his friends that day. Razzik started to grip his dagger tighter, breathing deeply as he kept scowling at the green lizard. Neither of the reptiles seemed to care about what the corsairs were saying. Even after their memories were refreshed and some of them stepped dangerously close to the lizards, they didn't cower. Dass stared at Razzik for a few seconds before he walked over to him. He looked down at the short rodent before he hissed in his face.

"Well, aren't you a fat one? …Alwayz did wonder what ye ratz tazted like."

Dass crouched down and opened his mouth, licking Razzik's muzzle very slowly. The rat shut his eyes and gritted his teeth as the lizard chuckled. And then he gasped and gurgled as Razzik stabbed him in the throat. The lizard backed away, coughing and gasping, clutching his throat. And then he fell on his back, still gurgling as blood flowed from his wound.

"What the fuck are ya doin'?!" shouted Darktail.

"I…I-I told you…I fuckin' told all of you," Razzik growled.

The rat turned as he faced all the pirates. "Don't you get it now?! I told alla ya we-we should be worried 'bout this lizard! Now he…he's got a fuckin' army with him an' he's wreaking havoc across these woods!"

"Uh, isn't that what _you're_ doing?" Darktail pointed out.

"It's not the same. We're not—"

"HOW?! How the fuck is it any different from what these cold-blooded bastards are doin'?!"

"'Cos we're not goin' 'round eating beasts," Kurwin growled. "Krassak Ralfur an' his lizards slew fourteen of my pirates. Ripped their bodies apart an' ate 'em in front of Razzik here, made him watch!"

"Yeah, 'cos I'm s'posed to automatically know what beasts you've had bad run-ins with," remarked Darktail snidely."

Razzik was about to join in on the argument when he turned and looked at Isslak. The black lizard with blue spots couldn't stop pacing back and forth, drooling as he looked at the pirates. All of them were starting to draw their weapons, staying on guard as the monitor approached them.

"Lookit all you morzelz. Mighty Krazzak will have fun with you! Ohhhhh, zo many tazty vermin!"

Kurwin spotted Isslak licking his choppers and snarled as he stomped towards him. "Back the fuck up! Stop starin' at my crew like they're nothin' but fresh meat!"

Isslak jerked around as he stepped towards Kurwin. "Or _wot_? Hmm? The fuck you gonna do, pirate?"

The monitor grinned as he slowly walked away from the pirate and looked at the rest of the vermin. "Wot are _any_ of you beaztz gonna do?! You…you think you're gonna rule thiz forezt? You think you're better'n uz lizardz? Hehehe, you're not…Mighty Krazzak haz hundredz of warriorz in hiz army now! Dozenz an' dozenz of lizardz like me—lizardz who look at you an' zee nothin' but flesh! Thiz forezt exizt zo we can burn it to the ground! You beaztz exizt zo we can eat you alive, roazt yer flesh over a fire! Zooner or later, Krazzak will find you all—he'll kill thoze who'll zatizfy hiz hunger, then keep otherz alive az hiz li'l petz fer him to fuck!"

Isslak chuckled. "Thiz pathetic, wretched bundle of fur an' flesh can't ztop a beazt like Krazzak! There'z nothin' any a' you can do! Nowhere to run or hide! Az zoon az my Mighty Leader findz you—"

Isslak grunted as he felt a sharp pain in his chest. He looked down and saw the bloody end of the cutlass driven through his chest. The lizard let out another soft grunt before Kurwin removed his blade, and Isslak fell to the ground. The pirate panted and rubbed his forehead, while Darktail shut his eyes and gritted his teeth.

"You fuckin' twat," he muttered.

Kurwin looked at Darktail and scoffed. "I'm sorry, y'got somethin' to say, Darktail?!"

"I just gave you the perfect deal, the perfect opportunity. And you just shat all over it! This lizard's leader has hundreds of warriors in his army, and your response is to stab him in the back?!"

"No. That's not wot happened. You told me this army only had a small group of monitors. You didn't tell me they were _all_ cannibalistic! I told you we're not workin' alongside beasts who have the intention of eatin' us! You didn't give me a perfect deal; you lured me o'er to a pile of shit an' lied when you said it didn't stink!"

Darktail blinked. "Guess that says somethin' about your logic if you were foolish enough to head _towards_ a pile of shit in the first place, doesn't it?"

Darktail gagged as Kurwin grabbed him by the throat and brought him close to his face. "You lissen t'me, you li'l shit. Yer gonna go back to this Ralfur beast an' tell 'im that he c'n go fuck himself. I do not work with cannibals. I do not work with beasts who are willin' to kill me an' overthrow my crew! An' if I see you or any of these lizards again, I'll peel all the skin from yer face an' remove yer eyeballs. Are we clear?"

Kurwin shoved Darktail away. The fox yelped as he tripped over Isslak's cooling body. He panted heavily as he looked up at the corsairs and began to rise.

"You…y-you fools. You've no idea…you've no fuckin' idea who this beast is…"

Darktail stared at all the vermin, backing away slowly as one of them raised their bow and arrow at him. He turned and began to run, sprinting until he was out of the beasts' line of sight. After the fox left, Kurwin leaned against one of the trees beside the huts and huffed, placing his cutlass back inside his waistsash. He looked around at the pirates, only hearing a few murmurs and noticing some strange glaring.

"Wot?" the captain barked.

Stinkfoot and Kronno were the only beasts who stepped forward, with the former scratching his head awkwardly.

"Cap'n, erm…w-we—"

"Speak up, Stinkfoot."

"With all due respect, Cap'n…we did warn you 'bout these lizards a while ago. So did Razzik. But you told us they were irrelevant."

"'Cos they are."

Kronno scoffed. "That didn't stop ye from lissening to wot that fox had t'say. Yore face lit up the second he mentioned that army o' lizards to ya."

"That was _before_ I realized they were the same lizards who slew an' devoured fourteen of us!"

"Regardless, Cap'n," started Stinkfoot, "we mentioned that these lizards could be trouble. An' from wot it sounds like, they've made quite a few friends since we last heard of 'em. I think it's time we go after 'em now, stop 'em before it's too late."

"An' like I told all of you before, we're not wastin' time chasin' after some scaly beasts who will kill each other before winter! We stay the course! We find more recruits, we strengthen this army, an' we take this forest for all it's worth!"

Kronno blinked. "Cap'n, this 'ole lizard affair could bite us in the arse if we avoid it. Are you—"

"We'll be fine, Kronno. 'Sides, if wot they said is true about the size of Krassak's army, then we should prob'ly get more numbers on our side in case we do run into 'em, dont'cha think?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Then there's nothin' left to discuss. We build this army. We find more recruits. _That's it_."

Kronno and Stinkfoot stared at the captain's stern glare before they flicked their eyes at each other.

"Fine," said Kronno sharply.

"You're the captain," Stinkfoot remarked.

Kronno and Stinkfoot retreated to the group, leaving Kurwin to stand and ponder his next decision. Razzik was still standing out in the open, scowling as he looked down at the lizards' corpses. His captain made the right choice. He knew he did. And if anybeast else couldn't understand that, then that was their fault. The only thing Razzik wished was that he would've listened to Kronno and Stinkfoot. They needed to stop this lizard. They needed to go after him as soon as possible, put an end to the reptilian menace before it got out of control. But Razzik knew his captain well; he knew how stubborn the ferret could be. There was nothing he could do or say to change the way Kurwin felt. So he told himself not to bother trying.

All he could do was follow his captain's orders, no matter how asinine they may or may not seem to the others.


	5. End the Game

**XXIX**

 **End the Game**

It was necessary. That's what his commander told him. They had to exterminate all their enemies, regardless of how defenseless they were. The stoat was leaning against the tree, breathing shakily as he looked at what he had done. He couldn't stop staring at the grisly scene; he knew it was wrong, but he did it anyway. The stoat looked down at his bloody paws and saw some of the fluids dripping onto the ground. He shut his eyes and exhaled.

"Ish…Ish, open yer eyes."

The stoat slowly opened his eyes. He frowned as he stared at the weasel in front of him. The weasel chuckled as he looked at the destruction the stoat caused.

"Good job, Ishlin. Won't be long 'fore the enemy surrenders."

"…Why? Why did…wot was the point?"

The weasel grinned. "The point, Ishlin, is that we need to win. There's nuthin' else—"

"We didn't…a-all this…how the fuck are we s'posed to call this a victory? We killed all these beasts—"

"It's a victory 'cos it'll crush the enemies' morale, their spirit, Ishlin! An' a beast who has no will to live has no will to fight! Once they see wot's been done here, trust me…the war will be ours."

The weasel laughed softly to himself and patted Ishlin on the shoulder. Ishlin only stared at the carnage in front of him as more blood fell from his paws.

* * *

It was always the best solution. The stoat never questioned how or why. Whenever he wasn't in a good mood, he'd always find a bottle of grog or beer or wine somewhere and chug the entire bottle. Then he'd pass out or vomit, and he'd feel better in the long-run. Ishlin blinked as he leaned against the tall tree, grasping the cold bottle of grog in his right paw. The stoat brought the bottle up to his lips and quaffed a large amount before he lowered the bottle and exhaled. Ishlin shook his head and wiped his mouth off before he heard a few footsteps in the distance. The stoat looked over his shoulder and saw the familiar scruffy black fox walking towards him.

"Wotchu want, Kronno?" the stoat growled.

Kronno scoffed. "Figured ye'd be the best beast t'find if'n I want a drink."

Ishlin flicked his eyes at Kronno and stared. The fox grinned at him, and the stoat snorted before he handed the bottle over to her.

"Thanks," she said, taking the bottle.

Ishlin kept observing the vixen as she drank large quantities of the fluids. She shut her eyes, shortly before she took the bottle away from her maw and coughed twice.

"The fuck d'ye mix wit' that? Yeller's piss?"

Ishlin shrugged. "Tastes fine t'me."

The stoat retrieved the bottle from the black fox before he drank from it again. Ishlin looked at Kronno as she sat down in the grass. Then the stoat looked at the bottle filled with bitter-smelling sludge and shook it a few times.

"D'you want another drink?"

"No," responded Kronno quietly.

"Then wot's yer problem?"

The black fox raised an eyebrow as she looked at the stoat. "I'm sittin' in the grass. Who said I 'ad a problem?"

"No, no, no. I know how all ye females are. You waltz 'round actin' like yer fine, but then you get all quiet, start sighin' in everybeast's ears jus' to get their attention. So _clearly_ sumthin' is botherin' you; jus' go ahead an' tell me now."

"Nothin's botherin' me, Ish. Just…ponderin'."

"That's jus' a clever term fer botherin' an' you know it."

"Okay, somethin's botherin' me. Ye fuckin' 'appy now?"

Ishlin smirked. He stared at the fox for a moment before he took another sip of his grog.

"So wot's wrong?" the stoat asked after drinking.

"Kurwin's our cap'n. An' wot he says goes, no matter how inane some o' his ideas seem."

"That's right."

"Then why do I feel like somethin's 'bout to bite us all in the arse? Why do I feel like Kurwin's not thinkin' everythin' through?"

Ishlin shrugged. "Maybe he ain't. Maybe he is. Ain't our right to question 'im."

"Why not?"

The stoat blinked. "Hmm?"

"Why ain't it our right to question 'im?"

"'Cos it shows we don't trust 'im. It shows we're startin' to doubt his leadership, an' you know how he gets when that 'appens."

"But I _do_ trust him, Ishlin."

"And yet, you're sittin' there talkin' to the biggest drunk in this crew, wonderin' if our Cap'n's makin' the right choices."

Ishlin sat down beside Kronno, sighing as he set the bottle down in-between them. He smacked his lips a few times before blinking. The two creatures paused for a moment before Ishlin smirked and tried to give the fox reassurance.

"His plan will work, Kronno. I know it will."

"Yew seem so sure."

Ishlin huffed. "Wot do beasts do, Kronno?"

"Kill."

The stoat snapped his fingers and pointed at the fox, grinning. "There ya go. Didn't even hesitate—didn't even take the time ta think yer answer through! So you know _exactly_ wot I'm talkin' about."

Kronno chuckled wryly. "Yew think Kurwin will succeed 'cos he kills?"

"I _know_ he will…I know. That's why this whole 'play nice' act with the goodbeasts is pointless. They know how dangerous he is. They'll get tired of how we treat 'em. Sooner or later, our 'friends' will rebel against us. That's why I don't think it's a good idea to try an' make 'peace.' An' soon enough, Kurwin will realize that too."

Ishlin grabbed his bottle and held it firmly as he paused. He took a small sip of the grog before grunting and shaking his head.

"The males, the females, even the babes, Kronno…they all have to die. All our foes; they-they must be extinguished from this forest. No survivors. No mercy. No chance of a rebellion. It'll be perfect, Kronno. Jus' us pirates…us vermin. Nobeast t'fight us; nobeast t'run or hide from. Only the victors lookin' down at wot's left of the corpses."

Ishlin turned away from the fox when she glared at him. "Yew act like this is all a game."

"It _is_ a game. Today, somebeast wins. Tomorrow, somebeast loses. Goodbeasts, pirates, thieves, warlords, assassins—we're all li'l, tiny playthings of some higher power. Whoever invented this sick game is sittin' up there with a grin on his nasty face, watchin' us all die fer his own amusement. I don't want to win this game, Kronno. I want this game to be _destroyed_."

Kronno looked away from Ishlin. She reached over and took the bottle from his paw. Ishlin didn't try to snatch it back; he watched as the vixen drank more of the fluids and set the bottle down.

"So wot 'appens when this 'game' is gone?"

"Peace. Serenity. You'll…you'll see, Kronno. One day—one day, Kurwin will destroy this wretched game, an' everybeast in this crew will finally be at ease. Ain't that wot you want?"

"Not if it means that the players o' the game are eradicated too. D'yew ever think o' that?"

"No…"

The two beasts got quiet again. Ishlin lowered his head as he pondered about the future, about what his captain and the crew planned on doing next. He didn't pay any attention to Kronno, nor did he see her lower her ears slightly.

"Wot's up with yew, Ish? Ya been very quietly lately. Barely even hear ya belchin' o' throwin' up anymore."

Ishlin looked at the fox and blinked. He stared at the fox's eyes for a moment, trying to see if she was faking her concern for him. But it was hard for the stoat to tell when he had over a bottle of grog in his system. He couldn't tell if he wanted to throw up, pass out, or cry. He felt nauseous and upset, and part of him thought he was about to piss himself. The stoat's eyes watered, moments before he glanced down. Ishlin saw what was left of the grog resting beside Kronno's side and grinned.

"Nuthin'. M…m'jus' drunk, Kronno. I'm just a drunk ramblin', nothin' more."

Ishlin snatched the bottle from the ground and laughed as he grasped it firmly. Then he put the bottle against his lips and downed the rest of it, exhaling after he emptied the bottle. Kronno sighed heavily before she stood up and patted Ishlin on the shoulder.

"Yew really should stop drinkin' that slop. Won't do no good."

Ishlin's ears twitched as he heard the vixen walk away. The stoat stared at the empty bottle and broke out into a fit of chuckling.

"Y-yes…yes, it will…"

* * *

He couldn't tell anymore. The beach used to be so vibrant and colorful. The sand was a rich, light shade of tan, and the water was blue and perfect for swimming in. But now, the stoat didn't want to touch the water—not with all those corpses floating around in it. He looked around the beach, only to see that the sand had been tainted with blood. Everytime he flared his nostrils, he smelled the festering corpses. The foul odor of fat, urine, blood and fecal matter filled his lungs. His body was sticky from the blood of his enemies and reeked of bile, along with his recent (and spontaneous) bowel movement. But despite everything, all the screaming had stopped. There was no more killing, fighting or shouting. As the stoat sat still, he couldn't help but marvel the calamity of the soiled beach. The seagulls were still crying in the distance. The waves were still crashing into the beach. The wind was still blowing across his face, carrying along the faint scent of the salty sea. But none of it seemed to matter to the stoat anymore. He blinked, his cutlass lying at his footpaws. The vermin felt like lying on the ground and joining all the corpses in the afterlife.

"Captain! Cap'n, lookit dis!" somebeast shouted.

The stoat wasn't paying attention. The voices from afar were background noise, muffled shouts and ambiance that was no different from the sound of the seagulls crying.

"Survivor, eh?"

"Yeah! Looks loik 'e's de only one!"

Ishlin still stared blankly ahead, the images around him blurred, out of focus. He knew beasts were running and walking around him, but he didn't bother. The stoat knew it'd be better if he stayed still, wait until his body gave up on itself. The stoat looked down at the ground for a moment, observing his coarse, red footpaws. Then he blinked as two more footpaws appeared in his vision.

"You okay?"

Ishlin kept staring, looking at the much cleaner pair of vermin footpaws that were only lightly tainted with blood. Somebeast snapped his fingers, and the stoat twitched. He blinked again and lifted his head slightly, looking at a blurry figure in front of him.

"Hey! You all right buddy?"

Ishlin didn't answer. He didn't have the strength to open his mouth. The blurry figure scratched his head for a moment. Then he snapped his fingers two more times beside the stoat's left ear. Ishlin's vision cleared up, and the stoat grunted quietly as he stared at the ferret. The stoat saw a few large ships out the corner of his eye. Ishlin flicked his eyes up at the vermin in front of him dressed in messy, simple clothing.

"Wot's wrong with 'im, Cap'n?"

"The bloke deaf or wot?"

The ferret shook his head. "Think he's in shock. Give him some room—he don't need everybeast crowdin' 'round him!"

Ishlin shut his eyes for a moment and breathed heavily out his nose. When he opened his eyes again, two tears quickly ran down his bloody face. He still made no sound as he stared at the gruff ferret.

"Wot's yer name?"

"Ishlin," the stoat responded, so quietly that the ferret almost didn't hear him.

The ferret nodded. "I'm Kurwin. I, uh…um, d'you need help gettin' home? I know you've…"

Kurwin turned around and looked at the messy beach before he stammered and shook his head.

"Yer not injured, are ya?"

Ishlin didn't respond. Kurwin scratched his head again and blinked.

"Can you still walk?"

The stoat nodded.

"Okay, um, j-jus' tell me where yer home is. Some of us c'n take—"

"I have no home," Ishlin interrupted.

Kurwin crouched down slightly so he could get a better look at the stoat's face. "It's over. This battle or-or war, wotever it was—it's finished."

The ferret smiled strangely, showing off his yellow teeth. "It's okay now. You can go back home."

Another tear fell from Ishlin's face as he shook his head. "No, I can't."

Kurwin rubbed his paws together, grumbling. "Family! That's right—you, um, you have a family waitin' fer you! You c'n go see 'em again!"

"I don't have a family."

Kurwin's tail went limp, and his smile waned. "Oh. Wot about friends? A-a mate? A lost sibling or-or a son, maybe?"

Ishlin repeated himself. "I don't have a family."

Kurwin frowned as he stared at the stoat. One of the vermin in the background scoffed and stomped away from the tall beast.

"Fuck 'im! Let's 'ead back on board, Cap'n! Ain't nuthin' else out 'ere!"

Kurwin rubbed his chin and shook his head. He stood up and started to grab Ishlin's arms.

"Get up," he barked.

Ishlin blinked as Kurwin grunted. The stoat looked down at him questionably as he tried to hold his body up.

"Wot are you doin'?"

Kurwin grunted again as he helped the stoat move towards his ship. "We got plenty of food an' water. Beds ain't the best in the world, but it'll do. I know a big lug like you is-is prob'ly starvin', right?"

"I don't want your help."

"But you _need_ it. An' I'm not takin' no fer an answer."

Ishlin and Kurwin carefully walked over some of the corpses as they got closer to the large vessel.

"Trust me. You'll thank me later. Now let's get all that muck offa ya! Smells like you've been on this beach fer days!"

Ishlin didn't protest or say anything. He didn't feel like going with Kurwin, but he didn't have the energy to refuse his offer. So the stoat moved sluggishly beside the corsair, hoping his mood would improve sometime later.

* * *

Out of grog again. Shit, thought Ishlin. The stoat walked through the forest, breathing heavily as he leaned against every tree he came across. Ishlin shut his eyes and tried not to think, tried not to see those graphic images again. But they always came back. The stoat quickly opened his eyes and panted a few more times. Damn, he could definitely use another bottle right now. The stoat licked his lips and huffed. He shut his eyes and rubbed his head, feeling the aches coming back. He covered his mouth for a moment, groaning. His stomach gurgled softly as it digested all the grog and food in his system. The beast opened his eyes and lowered his paw. Keep it down, he told himself. Ain't nuthin' more than a bottle; you c'n drink ten times that much in one sitting. So Ishlin moved away from the tree and started to walk around the moist soil. Then his eyes dilated, and the beast froze. The stoat heard faint whispering behind him, but he didn't dare turn around. It was nothing. Had to be. It was only the wind blowing against his back. So Ishlin continued, ignoring how chilly his back suddenly became. The stoat heard more whispering, and then he scrunched up his face when a familiar stench filled his nostrils.

"Dead-Eye?"

Ishlin turned around. The whispering stopped and the odor went away. But he knew that smell from anywhere—it only came from Dead-Eye whenever he opened his mouth. Ishlin stuck his tongue in his cheek and shook his head. He turned back around and kept walking. He was drunk, pure and simple. That cold chill in his spine was just the wind. That stench he detected was most likely from his own mouth; he _had_ just downed nearly a whole bottle of grog, and he never washed his mouth out. Yeah. That was all it was. So Ishlin chuckled to himself and shook his head, his throat feeling scratchy.

"Fuck…where's my fuckin' grog when I need it? Maybe—"

Ishlin froze again. Something grabbed his back. He could feel claws, all of them colder than frozen metal. He couldn't move; the feeling paralyzed him. And then, suddenly, the claws ran down his back as gently as possible, making his spine shiver. Ishlin screamed and started to run, hoping to get far away from whatever it was that just groped him. He shut his eyes again and swore. Grog. That was all he needed. The air was getting to him—he needed something to warm up his body and calm him down. Ishlin looked right and saw his fellow pirates eating vittles and scanning the perimeter for enemies. He looked left and ran past several large trees and a few bushes. He was just about to turn away when he spotted a clear opening in-between some of the trees. A dark gray fox was sitting down on a patterned, colorful rug and mumbling to herself as she mixed various powders and liquids. Ishlin panted as he jogged towards her.

"Oi, Sheeka! SHEEKA! How strong are all them potions?"

The vixen looked up at Ishlin as he approached her. The moment he sat down opposite her, she scowled and covered her nose.

"Not strong enough to give your breath a better fragrance. Please back away."

Ishlin huffed and rolled his eyes. "Ye smelled my grog-breath a thousand times now! It ain't nothin' new!"

"That don't mean I'm still not caught off-guard by how potent it is."

"You gunna help me or make fun of my breath all day?"

Sheeka shrugged. "Depends. What d'you need help with?"

"Them potions! Uh, um—one of 'em is like—it's like beer, ain't it? Y'know, I drink one, it has the power of a hundred bottles of shrewbeer an' wine in jus' a sip?"

Sheeka chuckled. "No, dear Ishlin. These are all very venomous poisons that I extracted from snakes an' frogs an' whatnot. I assure you, these potions will only make you feel pain, not whatever it is you all feel when you drink that slop."

Ishlin huffed. "Fuck."

"I'm surprised you ran out! I see corsairs drinkin' so much grog I'm startin' to think bottles of it grow out the ground! How d'you blokes keep finding it?!"

"Does that really matter right now?"

Sheeka blinked. "No, of course not. It's always best to ignore somethin' highly illogical whenever somebeast brings it up," she sneered.

"Okay, so we're on the same page then."

Sheeka smacked her paw against her forehead. "Forget it. I don't have any of that filth you drink. Try askin' Kurwin or somebeast else—the two of you seem to enjoy that stuff. An' while yer at it, ask 'im if he's seen any of my potions."

"Why?"

Sheeka started to move her tiny bottles and vials around. She counted them in her mind before lifting one of the bottles and examining it.

"Maybe I miscounted, but it seems like I'm missin' a bottle. I dunno; maybe I discarded it after the battle with those squirrels."

"Maybe. If I see it, I'll let you know."

Ishlin stood up and turned around. Then he sighed with frustration and resumed his quest to find more grog.

* * *

The stoat leaned over the railing and emptied his stomach's contents into the sea. Ishlin heaved twice, retching and burping as the sludge erupted from his maw. Then he let out a few shaky breaths as he tilted his head backwards and leaned against the ship's mast. He spat out the remaining bile as his vision continued to blur.

"You finished yet?" Kurwin asked.

Ishlin chuckled softly and blinked. "Got any more?"

Kurwin and the filthy rat standing beside him stared at the stoat and scowled. Ishlin sluggishly walked towards the ferret and reached down. Kurwin easily sidled out the stoat's way and shoved him towards the railing again. The stoat hiccupped twice as Kurwin walked beside him carrying a bottle in his right paw. Ishlin slowly turned his head and looked at the bottle.

"You want this?" the captain asked.

Ishlin was about to reach for it when Kurwin raised his arm and tossed the bottle into the water. The stoat heard the bottle splash and groaned. He was almost tempted to jump off ship and swim after the drink, but right now the stoat was on the verge of passing out. Kurwin growled at him.

"I understand that wot you went through was tragic, but I did not save yer arse jus' so you could spend the rest of yer life drinkin' all our grog!"

Ishlin spat into the water. "Fine. I'll…I'll drink yer rum an' wine instead."

The stoat was about to say something else when he heard a shrill cry up above. Ishlin moved away from the railing and blinked. And then he saw the great white bird as it floated around in the sky. Ishlin's eyes grew wide.

"There ain't nothin' wrong with a few drinks here an' there. But the crew's sick an' tired of cleanin' up your vomit, always tryin' to figure out wot you say when your speech gets slurred! Half the time you show up on deck with piss dribblin' down yer trousers! How fuckin' hard…are you listenin' to me?!"

Ishlin blinked and stopped staring at the seagull. "Huh? Uh, y-yeah, yeah…I'm listenin'."

The stoat shut his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "I-I need…I gotta get some-some rest. Y'know, um…t-think about stuff."

Kurwin stared at Ishlin and folded his arms, scowling. Ishlin chuckled quietly.

"I-I won't drink no-no more grog t'day…promise."

Kurwin gestured towards the door leading into the cabins. "Fine. Go on."

The stoat nodded and sniffled, hurrying towards the door so he could get some sleep.

* * *

Somebeast was attacking him. It was only natural for him to defend himself. He couldn't make out the being—somebeast with dark fur, and thin, bony fingers. Ishlin snarled as he tackled the creature down. He started spitting and swearing as he reached down and began to squeeze. The figure began to gasp and writhe around, thrashing his arms at his face. The figure grabbed a blunt object and slammed it against the stoat's temple. Ishlin shouted and shut his eyes, still grasping the figure. And then the stoat gasped and stopped. He got off the beast and panted as he sat down beside his bed. The other beast grabbed his throat and rubbed it as he coughed.

"The fuck…" The beast coughed a few more times. "The hell's wrong with you, Ishlin?" asked Stinkfoot.

Ishlin's eyes watered as he looked away from the other stoat. He let out a shaky breath before he started to cover his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

Stinkfoot coughed a few more times before he stared at the other stoat. Ishlin sniffled as he scooted away from Stinkfoot and sat in the corner of the cabin with his back turned. He shook his head and blinked away some of the tears that had formed.

"You were screamin," Stinkfoot said softly.

Ishlin blinked and turned his head slowly. "Whuh?"

"In your sleep. You were screamin', tellin' somebeast t'stop. I tried to wake you up, but then…"

"Oh. I'm sorry," Ishlin said again, after a long pause.

The stoats went deathly silent. Even the sound of the ship creaking and the waves outside made little noise. All Ishlin could hear were his breaths and tiny sobs. He needed to go back to sleep. It was just another outburst, nothing more. He'd find another bottle of grog or rum somewhere, let all the succulent fluids calm his nerves and make him feel better.

"So you told me you were in a war before all this," Stinkfoot started.

" _Stop_ ," Ishlin growled.

"Stop wot?"

"You can't help me," Ishlin croaked, his voice cracking.

Ishlin shut his eyes and gritted his teeth as he shook his head. He sobbed and sniffled a few times, thinking Stinkfoot would leave him alone and go back to sleep. But as he sat in the corner, he could hear the other beast walking towards him.

"I can't help you if you don't _let_ me. Nobeast can. You'll feel better once you let it out; you know that."

Ishlin shook his head again. "I don't know that."

Stinkfoot huffed. "We've all suffered a tragedy, Ishlin. We've all done somethin'. Everybeast on this ship is no different from you—the only way you'll get better is if you talk about it."

"I _can't_ ," Ishlin whined.

"Why not? Don't you want these-these nightmares to stop? All the screamin' at night; all the times you see somethin' and you suddenly freeze; all the times y-you attacked somebeast when you were sleepin'—don't you want it all to stop?!"

"YES! I want it all t'end, Stinkfoot! You fuckin' happy now?! You think I enjoy livin' like this, constantly tryin' to go anotha' day without cuttin' my throat open, without throwin' m'self over the side of the fuckin' ship?!"

"Nobeast deserves t'live like this. That's not wot—"

"Yes, it was! I see the way ye all look at me! 'Poor Ishlin the Drunk; oh no, that loud fuck is screamin' in his sleep again; that fuckin' stoat pissed hisself again; Ishlin the Drunk scoffed all our fuckin' grog!' I know wot…"

And just like that, he started crying. It was softly at first; the stoat only let out a few tears when he paused. Then he shut his eyes and sobbed, his body trembling as the salty tears ran down his face. Ishlin started to sniffle, moments before he tried to wipe the tears away. But he only wound up sobbing louder as small amounts of mucus ran out his nostrils. He was in the middle of feeling sorry for himself when he felt something warm behind him. And then the next thing he knew, Stinkfoot was wrapping his arms around him. Ishlin gasped softly and stopped sobbing so much when the other stoat put his chin on his shoulder.

"I just…I want it to stop," Ishlin whimpered.

"I know."

"…Why am I here, Stinkfoot? I-I wanted—I wanted t'get away from all this…I wanted the death to stop. But here I am, surrounded by pirates who rape an' kill an'…why the fuck am I here?"

"The same reason why I'm here, an' not stuck in the Hellgates."

Ishlin blinked and pondered for a moment. He remembered the day he first met Stinkfoot, how weak and broken he looked. He remembered how often he kept crying that day and constantly blamed himself for what happened to his family. He couldn't remember if he was drunk at the time—he probably was. But the one thing he remembered on that day was the way he hugged him tightly and offered to share his cabin with him. At the time, Ishlin just needed another bunkmate. But he was starting to understand why he chose to bunk with him. Ishlin shut his eyes and started to sob again, albeit in a softer tone.

* * *

He kept thinking about it all as he longed for another bottle to place inside his mouth. The stoat leaned against another tree as he grabbed his forehead and shut his eyes. He thought after all these seasons, he'd be better. He thought all of his issues would be sorted out. But he still saw them out the corners of his eyes. He still heard them whispering or snickering behind his back. And every so often, the nightmares would flare back up and he'd wake up sweating. Ishlin blinked and licked his lips. He was thinking too much; he'd feel better after another bottle of grog. The stoat resumed walking along, passing by a few other pirates who nodded or greeted him. He was just about to stumble across somebeast clutching a cold bottle when he stopped. _Would_ he get better? _Would_ it all go away? Or was this a burden he'd have to carry until he was in his grave? Maybe he couldn't run away. Maybe there was no way to fight it. Perhaps it was better if he finally accepted it. Running and fighting would only make him tired.

Ishlin heard the whispering again and swore softly. He could hear footsteps now. Somebeast was coming for him, ready to attack. But the stoat didn't move. He felt the icy cold claws running down his spine again. It was too late now. All he could do was brace for the inevitable.

"Ishlin—"

For such a burly, baritone-voiced beast, Ishlin was surprised at how vociferously he squealed. The stoat turned around, panting heavily as he looked down at the plump dirty rat.

"Fer fuck's sake, Dirtfoot! I almost fuckin' shit m'self!"

Dirtfoot blinked. "Somethin' tells me ye wouldn't care."

Ishlin huffed. "Wot d'you want?"

"We're sharin' drinks with the cap'n right now. Figured you'd want some 'afore the rest o' them slackers got to it."

Finally, thought Ishlin. The stoat quickly nodded. "Sure, sure. Wotever mate."

And just like that, his problems were solved. Soon enough, those delicious fluids would be flowing down his gullet and into his stomach. The stoat couldn't help but sigh with much relief. He only had to follow the rat for a minute before he arrived near the tents and saw a few other beasts sharing drinks with each other. Yeller and Flikk were there, along with Traegar and the captain himself. Some beasts had a bottle in their paws while the others were laughing or eating some of the food they stole from the holt. Ishlin started to smile, thinking back to some of the better times he shared with his shipmates.

"Oi, Ishlin! You're a li'l late to the romp!" said Traegar.

"Wot d'you mean?"

The weasel grinned. "Jus' bet Blowhorn he couldn't eat a whole red firebrand pepper! Pretty sure he's drownin' himself in milk right now!"

The stoat chuckled as he sat down next to Yeller while Dirtfoot walked away from the group. Ishlin watched as Yeller drank from a bottle filled with strange yellowish fluids. The fox lowered his bottle and exhaled, moments before he belched.

"Y'wanna drink mate?"

Ishlin shrugged. "Why not?"

The stoat grabbed Yeller's bottle and held it up to his lips. He tilted his head back and drank some of the fluids, grimacing from the salty taste and unusual, musky scent. He took the bottle away and coughed as he wiped his mouth. Yeller chuckled as he grabbed the bottle.

"Pretty strong t'day, ain't it?"

Flikk huffed. "It's strong _every day_ , Yeller. I'm surprised ya haven't thought about mixin' yer shit into it too."

The fox scratched his chin. "Hmm. Mayhaps the next time I get the trots—"

"Oh fer fuck's sake," said the white beast as she turned away and grimaced.

Ishlin coughed a few more times before he looked down and saw a strange shadow towering behind him. The stoat turned around and raised an eyebrow, but he only saw more trees and bushes. He started twiddling his thumbs just as Dirtfoot returned with more bottles in his paws.

"So who wants this, err…redcurrant an' beetroot wine?"

Yeller lifted his own bottle and snickered. "I'm good mate!"

"I'm fine with grog fer now," said Traegar.

Flikk looked at her bottle and tilted it upside-down, revealing nothing inside beside a few drops. She tossed the bottle on the ground, and Dirtfoot tossed one of the wine bottles at her.

"Yeah, throw one over 'ere!" shouted Kurwin.

Ishlin watched as the captain raised his paws and grabbed the bottle. Ishlin didn't need to tell Dirtfoot he wanted some; the rat tossed him a bottle right off the bat. Ishlin held onto his bottle tightly and observed and purplish-red fluids inside. He took off the cap and held the bottle underneath his muzzle. The stoat sniffed the wine a few times and grunted.

"Guess it smells fine."

Flikk was already drinking from her bottle, gulping several times as the sweet and partially bitter substance flowed down her throat. The black-eyed beast took the bottle from her mouth and grunted in the same tone.

"Eh. Don't got the same kick as fish 'ead grog do. Damn riverdogs—they can make a soup that'll burn somebeast's arse, yet they can't brew decent wine."

"I wouldn't expect _you_ to know anythin' 'bout how wine tastes," Dirtfoot sneered.

Flikk smiled. "An' I wouldn't expect _you_ to know anythin' 'bout how long it's been since you last stuck yer cock into another female."

Dirtfoot scoffed. "I'm sure you know 'bout every single female you've been with, bein' a pathetic cunt-licker an' all."

"Wot's more pathetic: the fact that I'm a cunt-licker, or the fact that I get more cunt'n you do?"

Everybeast sitting around Dirtfoot broke out into laughter. Ishlin was chortling alongside them as well; he couldn't help but roar with laughter once he saw the long scowl on Dirtfoot's face. Traegar clapped his paws a few times and nearly fell off the log he was sitting on. Yeller was shaking his head as he closed his eyes, amused by Dirtfoot's stunned silence. Flikk was still grinning at the rat, staring at him with those dark eyes, not blinking once. Kurwin coughed a few times from laughing so hard and spat on the ground. He took a few deep breaths as he started to lift the bottle up to his mouth.

"See, heh, see that's why y'don't fuck with Flikk, Dirtfoot! She…" Kurwin paused and sniffed the wine. "The hell is in this?"

Ishlin only stopped laughing when he drank from his bottle, grimacing from the bizarre taste. He set the bottle down and smacked his lips.

"Dunno. Pretty damn sweet though."

"Ye won't know wot it tastes like 'til you try it," Dirtfoot growled, still irritated at Flikk.

The captain shrugged. Ishlin stared at Kurwin for a moment before he spotted Glud out the corner of his eye carrying two bottles. The old ferret was walking towards the group when he tripped and bumped into Kurwin. The captain shouted and dropped his bottle, the fluids splashing out and leaking onto the ground.

"Oh, s-sorry 'bout that, Cap'n," said Glud quietly.

Kurwin sighed. "Ah, don't worry 'bout it. Prob'ly don't taste good anyways."

Ishlin looked at the bottle. Half of the wine was still inside, waiting to be consumed. The stoat grinned very slowly.

"Ye sure, Cap'n? There's still some left in there," said Dirtfoot.

"Pfft! Jus' stick with the grog an' rum, Cap'n," said Traegar.

"Yeah, forget 'bout the wine. I got two bottles o' rum here anyway," said Glud.

Ishlin saw the shadow again. More claws were gently running down his spine. The stoat reached forward and snatched the bottle off the ground so quickly he almost spilled more wine. Then he brought the bottle up to his lips and quaffed what was left inside. Ishlin shut his eyes as he took the empty bottle away and dropped it, sighing. He smacked his lips a few times and coughed as he noticed a sour aftertaste. The stoat looked at his other bottle of wine and started to drink from that as well. He only swallowed a few gulps before he took the bottle away and groaned. Ishlin shut his eyes as his stomach churned softly. The nausea was coming back, and Ishlin wasn't sure if he could hold it down this time. The other beasts' voices were muffled now, mere background noise. That cold chill in his spine had gone away, along with the whispering and strange shadows. But now his apprehension was replaced with a sickness he knew far too well. The bottle slipped from his fingers as the stoat slowly rose.

"Mm…I'm gunna…I'll see y'all later," he mumbled.

"You awright?" Yeller asked.

"Yeah, just…yeah."

Ishlin coughed as he wandered away from the small group. He tried to steady himself as he walked, his stomach grumbling more as he felt the bile rising in his throat. He bumped into somebeast from the Juskamard tribe; the stoat grunted and nearly fell on his bottom. He stumbled beside a tree, still breathing heavily. The stoat shut his mouth and retched, knowing the nasty substance was building up in his stomach, ready to come out his maw. The stoat continued to walk, panting and sweating, tripping over roots and rocks. Then he heard a spluttering, coughing sound, followed by somebeast groaning.

"H-hey Ish…how you doin'?"

Ishlin glanced to his left and saw Blowhorn slumped by a tree, his face wet with tears and sweat and his clothes drenched in milk.

"Lot better'n you I think."

Blowhorn laughed weakly. "That's fer damn sure."

The rat drank more milk slowly, his paws shaking as he consumed another small portion of the fluids. He set the bottle on the ground after drinking the milk and groaned as he stood on wobbly legs.

"My arse gon' be burnin' tonight…fuckin' pepper."

Ishlin ignored him. He leaned against an adjacent tree and shut his eyes, hoping the cool air would get rid of his nausea. Blowhorn gradually walked towards and stoat and sniffed.

"You sure you awright mate?"

Ishlin nodded. "I'm okay…jus' a li'l nauseous."

"I dunno. Seems like yer arse is blocked."

Ishlin turned and scowled at the rat. " _Wot_?"

Blowhorn stammered. "I-I mean—jus' lissen fer a second, kay? Everybeast in this crew knows 'bout yer…issues. Well, some of 'em, anyway. I'm surprised you ain't talked to me about 'em."

"Wot d'you know 'bout grief?"

"Quite a lot actually."

"Really?"

"Oh, aye! Grief's jus' a big pile of stinkin' shit."

Ishlin blinked and growled at the rat loud enough to hear. Blowhorn chuckled meekly and held up his paws.

"Hear me out mate—I know wot I'm talkin' 'bout! Y'see, everybeast has to deal with grief. An' everybeast has to shit. So wot do you do? You squat down an' you let it out. Sometimes, it's subtle—sometimes nobeast can even see, hear, or smell you goin'. An' once it's out, ya feel a lot better. But we all have _those_ days…y'know wot I mean. Those days where you stink up a whole fuckin' ship with yer bowel movement! Them days where yer so loud, the birds in the sky c'n hear ya! Hehehe, gotta love them days!"

Ishlin was still scowling. "Get to the point."

"Huh? Oh, right. Well anyway. Some days, you know you gotta shit, but ya choose not to. You hold it in. So you hold it an' ya hold it, an' then the next thing you know, yore all backed up. Sometimes it lasts fer days—sometimes a week. But it's real easy fer me to tell when somebeast is blocked. They all got that 'face,' y'know? An', well, maybe if you jus' chose to shit in the first place, instead of holdin' it all in, you wouldn't be blocked, now would ya?"

Ishlin wasn't paying attention to the rat. He was too busy trying to keep his bile down. And with Blowhorn's detailed, vivid comparisons flowing through his head, Ishlin knew it was only a matter of time.

"Course, grief is kinda like shittin' yerself too. Hah, happens to the best of us! We feel like we're fine, then all of a sudden all that greasy sludge jus' slides on out! You try to hide it, but let's face it: we all know wot happened—there's no point in denying it! Damn…wot was it, winter before last? Ate all that shrimp'n'hotroot soup. Mm, that did _not_ come out well! Fuckin' destroyed my shorts that day! It was all hot an' burned my arse—warmed me up though 'cos of how cold it was! Hehe, I didn't even change m'self! Jus' wore my trousers all day—I kept goin' so many times that I didn't see the point. It was all drippin' down my legs, got all over my footpaws 'n' wotnot. I woulda attracted flies if it were the summer! Jus' a large swarm of 'em hoverin' around my arse—"

Ishlin leaned forward and vomited. The bitter bile splattered all over the ground and near the stoat's footpaws. Blowhorn blinked after watching the tall beast release the food and fluids from his stomach before he scratched his head.

"Wot? Was I ramblin' on 'bout gross stuff again?"

Ishlin didn't answer. He spat on the ground and looked at his vomit with wide eyes. He whimpered quietly moments before his vision began to fade. The stoat clutched his chest as his stomach growled again. He let out a few more coughs before he grunted and spat again. Ishlin's knees shook. The stoat gasped twice as he tried to find air. But his throat was slowly closing up. Ishlin grabbed his neck with both paws before he whimpered.

"Ish…you okay, mate?" asked Blowhorn.

"C-can…I can't…breathe…can't…"

Ishlin collapsed. He fell on his back hard and began to convulse, still trying to breathe. Blowhorn broke out into a sprint and headed for the others.

"Captain! CAPTAIN!" he shouted.

He couldn't tell what was happening anymore. It started in his stomach and moved around to his chest, lungs, and then his neck. The pain was steadily moving throughout his body, getting progressively worse as the seconds went by. Ishlin couldn't even gasp anymore. He croaked and wheezed, his mouth becoming dry, his entire body weakening. The stoat thrashed his legs around and tightened the grip on his neck, gagging and whimpering. He snorted so hard mucus flowed from his nostrils. The stoat's vision continued to darken, but Ishlin told himself to fight it. He gritted his teeth and croaked again as his eyes watered. He could hear voices in the distance, but they were incoherent. The sound of beasts running was muffled, like faint booms that made Ishlin's ears rattle. His arms started to give, and the stoat stopped grasping his neck. His whimper was a small squeak.

Kurwin was there now. At least, he looked like Kurwin. Ishlin couldn't tell anymore; his vision was too blurred from the tears. His eyelids were feeling heavy now. Somebeast slapped him and shouted something at him. He gasped and hacked.

"Stay with me! C'mon—yer fine! Yer fine! Just…Ishlin?!"

His vision faded again. The stoat whimpered as he looked at Kurwin's face. The ferret was on top of him, panting and frantic. He hadn't seen the captain look so distraught in a long time. Ishlin slowly closed his eyes as all the voices grew silent. Then Ishlin exhaled as his heartbeats grew louder and slowed down. It's okay, he told himself. Just let it happen…you'll feel better once it's done. Ishlin waited, but then his eyes shot open, and the stoat told himself to fight off whatever had him. He gritted his teeth and sat up. He turned to his left to try and find Kurwin. And then he froze. He was looking at Plaskin, surprised to see that the beast's body was rotting and that he had a huge hole in his scalp that revealed part of his brain. Up ahead he noticed Longfang and Dead-Eye—the former had four holes in his torso, and the latter's right eye had been gouged out. To his right Ishlin could see Skeela and Islik advancing towards him, both covered in the same wounds they had when they died. Ishlin whimpered as he slowly scooted backwards. Everything was growing darker. More and more bodies were appearing. And they were all getting closer.

"Not now," he whimpered in a tiny voice.

Ishlin grunted. Something colder than ice dug into his flesh. Ishlin whined quietly as the iciness spread throughout his body. His heart beat two more times before the chilling entity reached his chest as well. Then Ishlin shut his eyes as the darkness swallowed him.


	6. Leave Nobeast Behind

**XXX**

 **Leave Nobeast Behind**

The rat snickered as he waved the humongous block of cheese in front of the other rodent's face. The smaller, weaker rat whined noisily as he reached up and tried to grab it.

"Give it!"

The bigger rat grinned. "No."

"GIMME IT! IT MINE, BWOTHA!"

The larger rat laughed as he wiggled his rump. He couldn't stop chuckling as he sat on the younger rodent's stomach. The tiny rat could only move his limbs and head. He reached up and tried to snatch the cheese wheel away again, but the older rat quickly lifted it up beyond his reach.

"Nooooo," he said in a taunting voice.

The younger rat whimpered as his eyes started to get watery. "But it mine! Da-da gimme it! IT MINE!"

The older rat rolled his eyes. "Fine. You want cheese?"

The young rat didn't know what was happening at first. He was looking at the cheese wheel as the older rodent waved it in front of his face. Then the young rat smelled something foul, and the bigger rodent slowly planted his footpaws near the young rat's head.

"HEY! WOT—MMPH! MMPH MMF FUMK CHOOM!"

The older rat was grinning again as he looked down at the younger one's face—which was now covered by his footpaws. The old rat wiggled his toes and started to slide his rough, dirty footpaws along the rat's face.

"There ya go, brother! Got a nice, fat pair o' smelly 'cheese' right there for ya! You better start lickin' if you wanna get nice an' full!"

The older rat didn't care about his younger brother's whines. He kept wiggling his toes and sliding his funky footpaws around the rat's muzzle as he resumed biting into the hunk of cheese.

* * *

Tegast was sitting on the large branch, staring up at the crescent moon with his back planted against the tree. He looked out to his left and saw an endless cluster of trees all positioned right beside River Moss. The rodent blinked before he turned to his right and saw the same thing: more trees and the large river that seemed to sparkle in the moonlight. He saw some branches moving around in the canopy; Tegast blinked twice and shut his eyes. Faint snarling and slurping filled his ears, the menacing noises circling around his brain. The rat relaxed himself and put both legs on the branch. It was late. He could get a bit of sleep right now, so long as the raucous screaming would stop. The rat whimpered softly and heard incoherent mumbles just a few feet away.

"H-help…help me—"

Tegast gasped and opened his eyes after hearing a sickening crack. He started to pant as he looked around the woods again, thinking somebeast else was there. But the area was barren, except for the watervole still standing beneath the tree. Tegast closed his eyes and exhaled loudly, his eyes and body still weary from all their traveling. The young rodent heard a few creaks and leaves rustling from below and blinked. Tegast looked down at the branch a couple of feet below him and waited until the scruffy vole showed himself.

"Hey."

Tegast flared his nostrils. "Hey."

"I, uh…you couldn't sleep?"

Tegast shook his head. "Everytime I try, I just…I'm—it's better if I jus' stay awake right now."

Tegast leaned against the tree again while Grustur grunted as he climbed onto the same branch. After the beast pulled himself up, he sat down a few feet away from the rodent with his footpaws hanging in the air. He moved them back and forth a few times before feeling a gentle gust of wind blow against his fur. The vole rolled his tongue around his mouth as he looked up at the stars.

"Does it get easier?" Tegast asked.

"Hmm?"

"This. Wot we're doin'. It-it gets better, don't it?"

Grustur shrugged. "You tell me. You said yer whole tribe was nomads for many seasons before they got killed. How'd it turn out with them?"

 _They all got killed while I were busy catchin' some fuckin' fish_ , thought Tegast.

"It worked…fer a while, anyhow."

"Mm. An' how did it work?"

Tegast shrugged. "We just…walked. We kept movin' forward. That's wot Father always taught me. If you can't keep walkin' then yer useless."

"I thought you said yer tribe helped each other, always stuck together?"

"…It wasn't always like that. Fer a while we…it wasn't until our tribe shrank that we realized how much we needed each other. But before, if you couldn't carry yore own weight, we didn't bother tryin' to haul you 'round everywhere. 'Keep up or you fuck up' I think were my father's words."

"And that's why you're still here today."

Tegast leaned forward and sighed. "Y'know, it…it's not that I'm upset over wot happened back there. I mean, I am, but that's not wot's botherin' me."

"Then what is it?"

"It…I'm upset 'cos part of me keeps telling myself that we _did_ do the right thing. How is…"

Tegast closed his eyes and shook his head. "I dunno…I'm not sure anymore."

"You still alive?"

"Yeah."

"Am I still alive?"

"Yes."

Grustur turned so he was facing Tegast. "Then we did the right thing. I used t'be just like you, Teg. Just a young thief caught up with a group of nomads—some hedgehogs an' squirrels I think. I remember one day, we came across this family of beasts that were surrounded by lizards. They wouldn't stop screamin' fer help, so we, bein' the 'noble' beasts we were, came to their rescue."

Grustur snorted. "Lost four of our members tryin' to save that family. Hmph. Fuckin' waste of time."

"Didn't you save them though?"

Grustur shook his head slowly. "We only managed to rescue the daughter. Poor beast was so wounded that she bled to death in her sleep. Her corpse attracted some crows, an' we ended up losin' two more beasts fighting them off. Six beasts dead, pup. And for what?"

Tegast glanced down. "At least you all tried…"

"You can't just 'try,' Teg. You either do it or you don't. If you _know_ you can save somebeast, then do it. But if you have even the slightest doubt, then don't bother."

Tegast stared at Grustur. "It's that simple?"

"Yep."

Grustur slowly turned away from Tegast and sniffed. He looked up at the sky again and blinked.

"Don't worry, pup," he said softly. "As soon as we find Log-a-Log an' his shrews, we'll be fine."

"For how long?"

Grustur shrugged. "Guess that's what makes life so mysterious, huh?"

Tegast didn't answer. He leaned against the tree bark again and started to close his eyes, hoping he'd be able to sleep without having any nightmares.

* * *

He was fine. They were talking to each other a few minutes before it happened. And then everything went wrong. He still had many captains with him. He still had a large, fearsome army at his disposal. And yet the ferret couldn't sit down without thinking a part of him had died today. He knew everybeast else felt it too. All the other corsairs were silent for over a minute. He glanced at Stinkfoot and saw the stoat constantly blinking away tears, while Kronno was visibly shedding them and wiping her face clean. Muslar, Traegar and Dirtfoot were standing silently with their arms folded, and Glud was breathing deeply, sounding like he was about to break down. Kurwin the Flayer stared at the rat standing at the opening of the tent.

"So wot happened?"

Blowhorn sniffled and shook his head. "I-I dunno, Cap'n. He were—he was fine. We were jus' talkin' an' then…he-he just died. I dunno…"

Muslar and Dirtfoot scowled at Blowhorn. The teary-eyed rat glared at both of them and exhaled.

"Oh, you fuckin' piece of sh-shit. You seriously think I killed 'im?!"

"No. But we're curious now that you jumped ta that conclusion," said Muslar.

"An' ya _were_ the last beast with him 'afore he collapsed…" Dirtfoot pointed out.

Blowhorn gritted his teeth. "You were there when Dead-Eye was slain. Does that mean you were the one who put an arrow in his fuckin' eye?!"

Kurwin raised a paw. "Calm down, Blowhorn. Nobeast is sayin' you slew Ishlin. We just wanna know wot happened 'afore you told me he collapsed."

Blowhorn sniffled again. "We were just talkin'! He-he told me he were feelin' nauseous. I-I started ramblin' on 'bout…y'know, usual shit. Then he threw up. Not long after, he-he said he couldn't breathe. It was like he were chokin' on sumthin'. Then he fell and…well, you know the rest."

"An' that's all you saw?"

Blowhorn nodded. "Y-yeah, Cap'n. That's all I know."

Kurwin blinked. "Okay. Yer free to go."

The rodent nodded again before he turned around and quickly exited the tent. After the rat left, Kurwin looked at all the other captains in the tent and flared his nostrils.

"Did anybeast else notice somethin' off about Ishlin today?"

"Nothin' outta the ordinary," Glud remarked quietly.

Kronno sniffed and folded her arms. "Um…he-he were in one o' his moods again. I tried talkin' t'him, but he wanted ta be alone. Not sure wot 'appened after that."

"Course yer not sure," said Muslar.

"Rather 'convenient' that yore memory gets all bungled now, ain't it?" asked Dirtfoot.

Kronno looked at the two rats as they scowled at her. She lowered her arms and sniffled. "Oh, fer fuck's sake! Ya seriously think I killed 'im now?!"

"No, but I'm a bit suspicious that you immediately—"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, DIRTFOOT!" wailed Kronno.

The black fox was about to say something else, but all she could do was shed a few more tears and whimpers. She wiped some of the tears away again before Traegar butted in.

"Nobeast is sayin' anythin'. But like it or not, we have to accept the fact that there's a traitor in this crew, an' he or she murdered Ishlin."

"Ma-maybe his heart just…gave out?" suggested Glud. "Maybe—"

"I'm tellin' you, ten minutes before he died, Ishlin was perfectly fine. We were all sittin' with him; he looked no different than before," Kurwin stated.

"Does it really matter who killed 'im now?" asked Stinkfoot solemnly. "We should…we should be celebrating who…who Ishlin was. We should be rememberin' who Ishlin was an' wot he did fer us, not how he died."

Dirtfoot grinned widely before he chuckled. "Great idea, Stinkfoot! As of t'day, we're all gonna spend the next week drinkin' ourselves to death with vomit on our tunics an' piss dribblin' down our trousers!"

Everybeast turned and glared at Dirtfoot. The filthy rat responded by laughing again, his big belly shaking as he chortled. Stinkfoot stomped over to the rat and punched him in the face. Everybeast heard a voluminous "WAP" as Dirtfoot shouted. Stinkfoot punched him again, and the rat fell to the ground. The next thing Dirtfoot knew, Stinkfoot was on top of him before he had time to lift his head. His vision blurred as Stinkfoot planted a fist in his left eye socket, and then his nose. The stoat was grunting and snarling with every punch he delivered, determined to keep the rat on his back. He assaulted him over and over again while the other pirates stood by and watched. Nobeast came to Dirtfoot's rescue. They all waited until Stinkfoot finished, and by then his knuckles were red and sore. His took several deep breaths as he looked at Dirtfoot's bloodied, bruised face. The rodent groaned and coughed up small amounts of blood just as Stinkfoot got off of him. Then the stoat reached down, grabbed Dirtfoot, and grunted as he hauled him back to his footpaws. He had just enough strength left in him to throw the rat outside the tent with a hefty shove.

"Fucker," muttered Traegar.

Stinkfoot stepped inside the tent and exhaled. Kurwin stood up from his chair and leaned against his table, still looking at the rest of his captains.

"If anybeast else knows somethin' about Ishlin before he passed, now's the time to share."

Everybeast kept their mouths shut. Kurwin blinked and nodded.

"All right then. Try an' get some sleep tonight. We'll figure this all out in the morning."

The captains flicked their eyes at Kurwin and nodded, shortly before they exited the tent. When Traegar and Kurwin were alone, the ferret folded his arms and closed his eyes. He flared his nostrils a few times and snorted. Traegar looked at the captain and raised an eyebrow.

"Cap'n?"

"I'm fine. Just give me a moment…"

Kurwin reached up and pressed a paw against his forehead. He squinted and gritted his teeth, swearing quietly to himself. The ferret shook his head and lowered his paw, silently reflecting on his next move.

"We can't afford this. Not now—not when we're makin' so much progress," growled Kurwin.

"Cap'n, I'm sure it's only one or two—"

"It does not matter how many there are! We can't afford another mutiny, Traegar! My crew will get cut in half—we'll-we'll end up bein' scattered in tiny groups! I can't…we won't survive if this crew splits up. We-we have to find out who did this _now_. Or else everythin' we…I can't lose this crew, Trae. I can't."

Traegar was about to open his mouth when a vixen gradually materialized near the tent's entrance. The weasel looked at the gray vixen covered in necklaces and other trinkets and huffed.

"What is it, Sheeka? We're busy right now!"

"I know, but this is important."

Kurwin's ears perked. "Is it about Ishlin?"

"Of course not. I just decided to show up so you two could stare at me fer a while."

Kurwin and Traegar stared at the fox, scowling when they saw her fold her arms.

"Yes, this is about Ishlin," Sheeka said flatly.

"Then get on with it," Traegar growled.

The vixen lowered her arms. "Before Ishlin died, he came to me lookin' fer some grog or whatever. At the time, I was busy lookin' through my potions, and I noticed one of 'em was missin'. Few minutes later, Ishlin's dead. Strange, huh?"

"No. Obviously somebeast poisoned him—we figured that out already," said Kurwin.

"But I've been thinkin' about it…poisoning Ishlin don't make any sense. Why not me too? Somebeast woulda been better off silencing me along with Ishlin; we were the only two who knew about my missin' potion."

Traegar shrugged. "Whoever did this is tryin' to take out Kurwin's captains one-by-one. Ishlin was the first."

"Sure, that's one theory."

Kurwin scratched his chin. "And the other?"

Sheeka swallowed. "Captain…what bottle did Ishlin drink from?"

"His own. We all had some wine we snagged off them riverdogs."

"Are you absolutely _sure_?"

"He downed half the damn bottle; I saw him clear as day."

"Okay…so did you drink from _your_ bottle?"

"Yeah! I…" Kurwin paused. He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his muzzle. "Wait, no—hold on. Um, somebeast bumped into me an' then I dropped it."

"But did you drink from it?"

"No. I didn't like the smell anyway; Ishlin said it was really sweet. I just stuck with rum."

"So what happened to the bottle after you dropped it on the ground?"

"Some of it spilled out. Ishlin picked…"

Kurwin stopped. Traegar and Kurwin both looked at each other with wide eyes. Then Kurwin looked at Sheeka, who was staring at him with the same shocked expression on her face.

" _Shit_."

* * *

The sun was beating down on them. All they could see was the seemingly endless rocky terrain and the massive mountains that made them all feel like ants. The tribe dragged their weary paws through the dirt. Each step felt like dozens of tiny spines scraping against the footpaws, causing some of them to bleed. Some beasts were no more than six seasons old, while others had aged so much that a small gust of wind could take them down. But on the group marched, determined to get out of the Northlands as soon as possible. Tegast and Danik were walking towards the rear of the tribe when they heard it. A thin body toppled onto the ground with a hefty thud. The older rodent's ears twitched when he heard raspy wheezing and knew it was too late now.

"Bwotha! Bwotha, th-the biggie-ear beast fell!"

Tegast blinked and kept walking. Danik lowered his ears and scampered over to Tegast so he could tug on his tunic.

"Bwotha!"

"I heard you, Danik," Tegast barked.

"But-but ain't we gon' help?"

Tegast stopped walking and shut his eyes. He grumbled quietly before he turned on his heels and stomped over to the wheezing hare. The rat crouched down and stared at the malnourished beast whose bones were partially visible through his skin. His footpaws were bleeding and his paws looked rugged and swollen. The rodent shook his head and reached forward so he could grab the hare's backpack. He ignored the hare's pained grunts and slid the pack off the leporid's feeble arms. Then Tegast picked up the backpack and turned back around so he could rejoin the tribe.

"B-bwotha! You—wot 'bout biggie-ear beast?!"

"Wot about him?"

"You leff 'im on t'ground! I thought we—"

"Danik, jus' shut up! Go head o'er to Mum an' Dad."

Danik lowered his ears. "But—"

"Now, Danik. We have to keep movin'."

Tegast scowled at the younger rat. He knew Danik would listen to him unless he was eager to be on the receiving end of his footpaws again. The older brother watched as Danik dragged his footpaws across the rough terrain so he could regroup with their tribe. As Tegast slung the backpack around his back, he heard the same raspy breathing from behind again.

"W…wait…"

Tegast froze. He thought about turning around, but he knew if he saw the pitiful hare's face, he'd change his mind. And he knew his tribe refused to care for stragglers. He had to keep moving, stay with the stronger beasts who could still walk.

"Wait…"

Tegast frowned. He slowly turned his head just far enough to catch a glimpse of the hare through the corner of his left eye. Part of him wanted to turn around. Part of him knew he had to try and help out. But another fraction of the rat knew that it was a waste of time and energy—something everybeast needed to conserve. The rat blinked and turned away. And then he walked forward, leaving the hare to his grisly fate.

* * *

Tegast and Grustur were walking meticulously, moving about as slowly as possible. The dreaded smell filled their nostrils again; Tegast knew something was off. He couldn't see or hear the lizards, but they had to be nearby. Either that or they recently came across the river. But the two wanderers knew they needed to move fast. As they moved past the dark trees and the foreboding sections of the woods, Tegast began to slow down. His ears twitched as he heard faint clunking in the distance. The rat took a few short breaths and hid behind a tree while Grustur continued on. Tegast peeked around the corner of the tree and let his heart rate slow down. He took a long breath and told himself to relax. Then he turned and spotted the two logboats resting beside each other in the water.

"Hey, Teg! You seein' this?"

Tegast stepped out of cover and rushed towards the bank beside Grustur. Both of them stood beside the logboats and examined them carefully.

"Aren't these wot the Guosim ride on?"

"Yeah, but there's no Guosim."

Tegast looked up at the river again and blinked. He swallowed hard when he saw an ominous figure floating face-down in the water.

"Uh…I think I found one of 'em."

Grustur looked at the river too and swore. One of the Guosim shrews was lying in the water with three arrows in her back. The two beasts took out their daggers and started to pant.

"We have to move now," Teg panted.

"Tegast—"

"They could be in trouble! Fer all we know it's too late!"

"If it's too late, we may as well turn back around. No point in gettin' into a fight this late at night."

"We can't keep runnin' an' hidin' at this rate, Grus! Sooner—"

The two beasts went quiet once they heard the eerie hissing in the distance. They slowly backed away from the river and heard incoherent chants from all directions. Tegast looked up in the canopy whilst Grustur stared at the ground. The foul odor clouded their nostrils again, this time making both beasts scowl. Tegast shivered for a moment while Grustur jerked his head left and right.

"You see 'em?"

"No," whispered Tegast.

The beasts gasped when they heard footsteps and twigs snapping in the distance.

"C-could be the Guosim. Maybe—"

"Not a chance in Hellgates."

Tegast huffed twice. "D'you see 'em now?"

"No. You?"

"No…sounds like they're all around us."

A series of fierce snarls began to accompany the ghostly hisses. Tegast turned and looked beyond the river as the snarls grew louder. And then his eyes dilated when he saw something glowing in the distance.

"Hide!"

Tegast and Grustur rushed over to a tree large enough for both of them to hide behind. The latter started to pant heavily while the former continued to observe the area.

"Did you spot 'em?!"

"I-I think I saw a pair of eyes. They're across the river."

"Eyes don't glow in the fuckin' dark!"

"I'm tellin' you I saw somethin'!"

"You expect me to believe—"

"Go check fer yoreself if you don't believe me."

Grustur snorted and slowly peeked around the corner of the bark. His eyes grew wide when he saw three sets of glowing yellow eyes in the distance. Grustur jerked his head back around and huffed.

"Okay, yer right. They're across the river."

"I think they're on this side too; they must be roamin'."

"Got any ideas?"

Tegast shrugged. "Hide? Th-that's wot my tribe did when we came across an adder. Eventually it slithered past us."

"This isn't _one_ adder, pup. I think we just walked inside an entire fuckin' _quarry_ of adders."

Tegast and Grustur continued to grasp their weapons as the noises in the woods became louder with each passing second. The rat crouched down, trying to conceal himself if any of the monitors came nearby. Grustur sniffed the air several times before glancing down at the rodent and swearing.

"You gotta shit?"

Tegast scrunched up his face and looked at the vole. " _Wot_?"

"Shit? Void yer bowels? Have a bowel movement? Take a giant poo on the ground?"

"No, Grus, I do not need to take a poo on the ground," said Tegast flatly.

"Damn it. What about piss?"

"I went before sundown; I don't gotta go now. Why?"

"We gotta mask our scent _now_. If they're this close, it won't matter where we run or hide. They'll find us anyway."

"So, wot? We go around lookin' fer a pile of lizard shit to rub on our bodies?"

Grustur paused. "That's actually a brilliant idea."

Tegast smacked his paw against his forehead. "Okay, I understand how that'll work. But wot about the Guosim? Shouldn't we at least see if they're still okay?"

Grustur huffed. "I guess we may as well. It's too late to run now; we gotta move forward, hope that these lizards ain't slaughtered all of 'em already."

"Okay. I say we split up. You stay by the river; I'll hide in the bushes an' 'round the trees."

"Gotcha. We go—"

Grustur and Tegast froze when they heard another nasty snarl only a few yards away.

"Move!"

Tegast and Grustur split up. The young rat threw himself on the ground and calmed himself down. He stopped breathing heavily and lied flat. His ears twitched as he listened to footsteps in the distance. He glanced up for a brief second and spotted a dark figure in the distance. He could hear more leaves crunching beneath the footpaws; the hissing grew more menacing as he waited. Tegast took a chance and crawled forward, sliding his body along the soil, hoping the darkness and grass concealed him. Somebeast started running. Tegast gasped and hurriedly crawled into a bush, swearing softly as the prickly leaves brushed against his body. He squatted down and gripped the dagger tightly, flaring his nostrils to see if any of the lizards were closer. Somebeast slurped and chuckled softly before she exhaled.

"Rat…ztinky rat…"

Tegast bit his lower lip. He poked his head out of the bush slowly and turned right. At least five lizards were crowding around the river, the beasts salivating and sniffing the air.

"Where iz it? Where'z the ztinky rat?"

Tegast flicked his eyes at one of the trees near the riverbank. He saw Grustur poking his head out of the tree hollow and waving him to come over. The rat flicked his eyes back and forth. And then he emerged from the bush and rushed over while crouching down. He threw himself inside the hollow and pressed his back against the coarse bark. Grustur kept glancing outside the hollow, looking down at the set of footpaws that moved past them.

"I know I zmell it…zome vole too!"

"Keep lookin'. We'll find 'em eventually!"

Tegast pressed his head against the wood and shut his eyes. Grustur exhaled and shook his head.

"We gotta mask our scent with somethin'. _Now_ ," Grustur whispered.

Tegast thought for a moment before he heard another set of footpaws. He glanced outside the hollow and saw the group of lizards to the right, but there were only four of them now. The rodent cautiously crept outside and stared at the river. One of the lizards split away from the group and was bowing down as he lapped the cool fluids. The rat figured one less lizard would be better for them, so he quickly rushed forward with the lizard's back to him. By the time he noticed the strong scent, the lizard was gurgling and gasping as Tegast planted his dagger into the back of his neck. The lizard's legs shook, and he fell with a soft thud. The panting rat ran back to the hollow and gestured for Grustur to come out. They hurried over to the lizard's corpse and crouched down.

"So what now?" Grustur asked.

Tegast grunted as he grabbed the small reptile's cadaver and flipped it over onto its back. He looked at the reptile's abdomen for a few moments before he raised his dagger and stuck the blade inside the stomach. He lifted his dagger again and stabbed the beast a second time, spilling blood in the process.

"Help me cut 'im open. We can smear all his blood 'n' guts on ourselves, hide our scent that way."

"Got it."

Grustur raised his dagger and joined Tegast as he proceeded to cut the lizard open. The beasts sloppily stabbed the corpse over and over again, cutting as much of the scales as possible and leaving a gaping wound big enough to stick their paws into. Grustur grimaced as he started to cover his paws with blood and fat, the fluids spilling out onto the ground. Tegast almost retched as the foul odor of feces and the bitter scent of the lizard's bile and fat clouded his lungs. He coughed a few times and stuck his paws inside as well, extracting a goopy substance he was hoping was only blood. The rat started to smear the gunk around his body and clothes; he and Grustur kept digging inside the massive incision and pulling out the thick, pungent fluids. Tegast was starting to rub it around his face when he heard a nasty snarl.

"Okay, okay. That's good; we gotta move!"

Grustur and Tegast stood up and sprinted for the trees again. The latter hid by the trees this time, taking a few quiet breaths before he exhaled and glanced at the river. He could hear more voices in the background; the lizards had found the dead body. But judging by the crunching and smacking noises that followed, they didn't seem torn up over their loss. Tegast looked left and saw Grustur jerking his head to the left. He pointed at himself, then at the shrubs in the distance. Tegast shook his head and pointed at Grustur, then at the stumps near a circle of shrubs. He gestured for him to move towards them, only for the vole to shake his head. He was about to perform another paw gesture when the duo heard more snarling. Grustur shut his eyes and swore in his mind, and then crept towards the stumps. Tegast headed for the shrubs and lied flat on his stomach again. More reptiles were coming his way, with no chance of avoiding or maneuvering around them. The rat blinked as he crawled on his belly and listened to the footpaws progressively growing louder. Then the rat saw the claws, and he froze.

He couldn't tell what the beast was. All he could see were the two footpaws to his left. He lied his head down and stared at them, watching as the creature gradually walked right past him. He shut his eyes and waited until the noise died down and the beast went away. But when he opened his eyes again, he saw more legs heading towards him. Tegast placed his paws flat on the ground and shifted over to his left inch by inch. He moved his left arm and leg first, praying that he didn't crush leaves or fragile twigs. Tegast bit his lower lip when he felt a small fragment of wood beneath his left leg. He swore when it snapped, and one of the lizards snarled.

"Where…I know I zmelled them!"

"Relaxxxx…I will find him. Nobeasssst can hide from ussss viperssss…"

Fuck, thought Tegast. _Fuck_. The rat stayed still and listened to the reptiles as they slowly walked forward. He looked to his right and saw a pair of legs curling. The rat decided to crawl forward as the other lizards walked a few feet away from his position. He paused when the lizards stopped—and was very glad he did, because he spotted a pair of scales gradually sliding to the left through the grass. The snake didn't appear to have a thick body, but Tegast was taken aback by how long the scaly beast was. He didn't blink until the snake slithered away and the area in front of him was clear. The rat crawled a few feet forward and stumbled upon a series of large, hollow logs spread out beside some of the trees. Tegast advanced towards one of the logs and crawled inside. He lied flat on his stomach again and froze once he was halfway inside. More strange voices filled his ears again.

"…be more careful. Can't put yer body in harm'z way."

"I'm fine, Father. Juzt az long az I don't put too much strain down there."

Tegast heard faint laughter near the log, followed by the wood creaking. The rat assumed whoever was outside was leaning or sitting down on the hunk of wood.

"D'you know who the father iz?"

"No…lozt track of wot happened durin' that romp."

The older male lizard growled. "Karzi. Did you let one of them monitorz—"

The younger female reptile chuckled. "No, Father. Y'know I can't ztand them beaztz. 'Zidez, d'you know awkward that'd be?"

The male lizard snorted. "Not at all. I'm sure we'd all love t'have an iguana fer a mother an' a filthy, revolting monitor lizard fer a father."

Karsi chuckled again. "No, Father. _No_."

The male iguana suddenly changed the subject. "None of 'em forced themzelvez into you, did they?"

Tegast and Karsi went silent. The only noises anybeast heard were the water sloshing in the river and the crickets chirping frequently around the woods. Tegast lowered his ears.

"Karzi?"

"No, but…zometimez they ztare. They'll creep up behind me an' hizz; zometimez they 'joke' about how wet I am, about how zweet I muzt be."

"Iz that wot happened lazt week with that monitor you ztabbed in the cloaca?"

"He ztarted to touch me, Father. _In my zleep_. I kicked him off and grabbed a dagger. You know the rezt."

Karsi's father snarled. "Fuckin' monitors."

"Don't worry 'bout them. I can defend m'zelf."

"Juzt ztay _far_ away from them monitorz until we get to our deztination. Then we'll be zafe; that'z wot Krazzak promized uz."

"An' wot deztination iz that? 'Coz all we've been doin' theze lazt few weekz iz zlaughterin' beaztz fer no fuckin' reazon."

Karsi's father paused. "We'll figure it out. Zooner or later…juzt ztick with me, Karzi. We'll get through thiz az long az we obey them."

Tegast lied very still for a moment. Part of him was tempted to come out and ask the lizards if they wanted to join him and Grustur. But he only knew these beasts for a few minutes; a simple conversation wasn't going to make him trust them, or vice versa. Nevertheless, he knew how it felt to be trapped in a situation where he had to choose between a bad idea and a worse idea. Tegast blinked a few times and heard the log crackling again. It shifted slightly; the rat assumed the iguanas just got off.

"Go check the river 'afore Luggrar comez by. Lazt thing we need iz him gettin' angry at uz."

"Okay."

Tegast waited again as he heard two sets of footsteps in the distance. The rat shut his eyes and exhaled with relief. He let his body calm down as he took a few deep breaths. Then the rat opened his eyes and gasped when he saw the snake up ahead. It saw him too. Tegast started to crawl backwards, but by then the snake was slithering her way into the log. She moved all the way towards Tegast's head, her tongue flicking out periodically. But she didn't attack. She was baiting him, allowing him to have the first strike. All Tegast had to do was lift his paw up, grab her, and snap her neck. All she had to do was jerk her head forward and latch onto his eye socket with her fangs. The snake hissed twice and slowly opened her mouth. Tegast slowly tilted his head to the left. The snake struck, but she was a second too late. Tegast jerked his head to the right and picked up the dagger he had concealed beneath his body. The snake brought her head back, giving Tegast enough time to plant the blade into her jaw. The reptile let out a cut-off gurgle as the dagger punctured her mandible and made its way into her brain. The snake's body writhed around for a moment before it lay still.

Tegast exhaled and removed his dagger. Then he speedily crawled out of the log. He stood up and wiped some of the filth off his clothes. And then his eyes grew wide when he heard a bowstring stretching. The rodent, instinctively, spun around and threw his dagger to the left. He heard a soft thud, followed by somebeast swearing and snarling. Tegast immediately stood up and ran towards the lizard. The reptile shook his head after being hit with the dagger's hilt and pulled out his cutlass. Tegast rolled on the ground and swiped his dagger from the dirt. The lizard swung low—but not fast enough to hit the rolling rat. The rodent stabbed the lizard in the right kneecap, causing the reptile to howl. Then he stuck his dagger into the creature's throat and silenced him for good. Tegast removed the blade and started to run in the other direction. He knew somebeast heard that howl—he and Grustur needed to get away as fast as possible. The crouched vole hiding by the shrubs spotted Tegast and scowled.

"Hey, where ya—HEY!"

Grustur stood up and began to run after Tegast, still trying to figure out why their stealthy approach had changed.

"I'm pretty sure they heard that! We gotta gain some distance before we hide again!" said Tegast.

"Even if they did—"

Tegast yelped when an arrow landed just a few inches in front of his footpaws. The two wanderers heard faint snarling and tree branches rustling up above. Grustur and Tegast jumped behind another fallen log and crouched down. Grustur swore when he heard a wooden _thunk_ and knew an arrow just struck the log.

"They're in the trees!" said Tegast.

Grustur panted as he looked in the canopy. "Where?"

"I dunno, but…"

Tegast listened very carefully when he heard a few more branches cracking. One of the lizards hissed vociferously and began to snicker. The rat slowly shifted to the left, and then gasped when he heard another lizard stretching a bowstring.

"GO!"

The duo broke out into a sprint again, panting as they ran forward. They could hear somebeast—possibly more than one—snarling and hopping around in the trees. One arrow landed in the dirt a few feet behind them. Another one nearly hit Grustur in the back of his right leg, causing him to yelp. Grustur tripped and fell inside a ditch while Tegast slid to his right and pressed his back against a tree. His heart started racing as he listened to the lizards in the trees emitting disgusting, slobbery noises or whispering chilling words throughout the canopy. The rat heard another _thunk_ , followed by Grustur panting as he ran towards him.

"C'mon, this way! We might lose 'em if we get away from the river!"

Tegast nodded and watched as Grustur started to run to his left.

"HELP! SOMEBEAST—"

The words were suddenly muffled. Tegast looked forward and blinked. He wasn't sure how far away the beast was, but he had to have been close if he could hear him shouting. The rat wasn't sure, but it sounded like some kind of scuffle was going on in the distance—probably more lizards tormenting the Guosim. The rat kept staring forward before he glanced to his left and looked at Grustur.

"No, Teg. Forget about it! If the Guosim's already fucked, we need ta get away from here an' change our plan!"

The reticent rat couldn't decide. He looked forward, left, then forward again. The same beast cried out, only for his voice to abruptly go out. Tegast took a step forward and exhaled.

"Teg, ya ever hear 'bout them stories where the hero rescues somebeast in distress an' then the beast dies later on anyway?"

"Yeah." Tegast looked at Grustur and grinned. "Not a big fan of those."

Tegast ran forward, and Grustur began to stammer.

"Te—Tegast! TEGAST!"

Tegast ignored him and kept sprinting.

"Tega—oh, shit," groaned Grustur as he rolled his eyes.

Grustur snarled as he chased after the young rat.

* * *

It was another blazing hot day in the Northlands. Everybeast in the tribe was exhausted and moving sluggishly. Some beasts were panting and smacking their cracked lips, their mouths completely dry. Others had bloody footpaws with blisters that popped whenever they stepped on hard rocks or gravel. Their supplies were running low, and some of them were beginning to wonder if they'd ever reach the alleged oasis located near the mountains. But Tegast wasn't worried. He and his family had been through worse; they'd make it. They always made it. He just wished he had more bandages for his footpaws. The rat rubbed his sweaty forehead and stepped forward. Then he shouted and swore after feeling a sharp pain on his right footpaw. Tegast inhaled sharply and lifted his footpaw so he could look at the toes and paw pad. He grimaced. Another blister had popped and was releasing clear fluids along his already coarse footpaw. His entire footpaw was red, with two bloated blisters around the pads. His heel was cracked and on the verge of bleeding, various scratches were scattered around the footpaw, and there was a blood blister on his big toe. The last thing he needed was for that to pop; there was no way he could go on if his footpaw got infected.

Tegast huffed and put his footpaw down. And then he heard a soft thump and looked to his left. The rat rolled his eyes again and exhaled as he walked towards his brother.

"C'mon, Danik. Get up."

Danik wheezed, his jaw hanging low. "Wa…water…"

"We don't have no water now. Jus' get a stone or somethin' an' suck on it. It'll keep the saliva flowing. Now get up. We'll find water soon."

"No…no, we won't…"

Tegast looked at the tribe. They were still walking. The rat lowered his ears and crouched down.

"Hey, c'mon bro. We've been through worse than this! Don't you wanna grow big an' strong like yer big bwotha?"

"I'm tired," Danik whined. "I-I can't…I can't—"

"Yes, you can. You have to. Yer gonna die if you give up; is that wot you want? You want crows t'come along, pick yer flesh apart while yer still awake?"

"…Leave me."

Tegast blinked. "Wot?"

"…Leave. Dat wot…ya lef' biggie-ear beast…leave me too. I'm…I jus' slow you down, bwotha."

Tegast ignored him. He grabbed Danik's right arm and jerked it forward, hoping his brother would wise up and stand. He didn't. Danik wrenched his arm free and whimpered as he lied flat on the ground.

"Get up!" Tegast barked.

"Dun' wanna…"

"You—" Tegast huffed and looked at his tribe. They were yards away now; the only reason why they were still in his line of sight was because they were all as weary as he was. Tegast looked down at his fragile brother, listening to him wheeze and whimper. The rat shook his head. If he didn't want to move, then fine. Tegast knew he'd end up hating himself for this, but he had to do it. The older rat turned around and crouched down in front of Danik's face. The young rat slowly lifted his head and looked at Tegast's back.

"Grab my shoulders."

"W-wot?"

"Just do it, all right?"

Danik was still tired and almost out of energy, but he mustered enough power to reach up and grab the rat's shoulders. Tegast grunted as he gradually stood back up, hauling his shorter brother right off the ground. Danik's footpaws dangled in the air as he clung onto his brother like a common backpack. Tegast gritted his teeth and started to walk forward slowly.

"Hold on tight, Danik," Tegast said in a strained voice. "I'm not wastin' my time goin' back an' forth to pick ya up everytime you fall."

Danik wrapped his arms around the rat's chest, making sure his grip was tighter. Then he blinked twice and rested his head against the back of Tegast's neck.

"Okay, bwotha."

Tegast shut his eyes and exhaled as he continued to hold his brother. He knew his footpaws would only worsen because of this; he knew he'd exert more energy carrying his chubby brother in the sun.

And he knew he'd be fine with that.

* * *

Tegast kept sprinting forward, hoping he'd reach the beast in time. He shoved various branches and leaves out the way, grunting or swearing when he stomped on roots or jagged rocks. The muffled screams were suddenly replaced with a strange squishing noise. Tegast began to slow down. He had to be close now—the beast couldn't be more than a yard or two away. Something snapped. Tegast's line of sight was blinded by all the twigs and low-hanging branches with leaves spread all around. The rat heard another squish, followed by somebeast breathing heavily. Tegast shoved the leaves and branches aside and stepped out into the open. He saw the beast's furry back and blinked. Then he caught sight of the mutilated corpse lying on the ground and stared at the defiled cadaver with wide eyes.

"Damn it, Teg! I told you…"

Grustur shoved the branches out the way and stomped towards the rat. He stopped when he spotted the corpse as well and stammered. Tegast and Grustur looked at the corpse before glancing up at the beast standing beside his kill. He turned around slowly and stared at the duo with a dark, morose face.

"Wot the _fuck_?!" shouted Teg.


	7. Daddy's Love

**XXXI**

 **Daddy's Love**

 **A/N: I know I've given a lot of warnings in the past, but I'm serious now. There's controversial material in this chapter, most of it dealing with male-on-male abuse and raping, and it does go a bit into underage territory, even for back then in medieval times (where I believe the age of consent was thirteen to fourteen in the late 1800s). That being said, this chapter does include a scene involving somebeast younger than thirteen. It's not a full-on rape scene, but the scene itself may still prove to be a bit unsettling. So be prepared in advance for when that part comes.**

The young beast couldn't stop thrashing around and whining as the heavy shrew tried to grab him. The tiny beast whimpered and crawled away, using the two bodies as a shield. The older, thicker beast grinned and started to approach the small one.

"Cummon now! It's okay, li'l one! I'm ye father now!"

The older beast held out a paw and gestured for the tiny shrew to come over. The small shrew sniffled and shook his head.

"Cummon, son. Ye dun' wanna be weak like ye parents were, do ya?"

The older shrew reached down with his right paw and slowly pulled a bloody rapier from its sheath. He pointed it at the small shrew and grinned.

"Well, do ya?"

The small shrew couldn't understand. He whimpered and tried to shake the cooling bodies again, but they didn't move. The older shrew shook his head and scoffed. He walked over to the tiny babe and picked him up with both paws.

"There we go!"

The small shrew started to yowl and snarl as he jerked his paws and legs around. The bigger shrew giggled as he moved his paws around in an attempt to keep the babe steady.

"Jus' kill 'im, Chief. Bugger ain't no good to ye," said another shrew.

The big shrew looked at the babe's eyes and grinned. "No…he's perfect. He's got that spark—that fire in 'im. He'll be jus' like his ol' Dad! Wouldn't ye like that, my son?"

The babe responded by snarling and snapping at the old shrew with tears running down his face. The big shrew chuckled and gently rubbed the babe's head.

"Yeah…yer absolutely _perfect_. Such a fine leader ye'll become one day…fine leader indeed…"

* * *

Log-a-Log Brugo was inside his hut again, sitting in his chair with his head lying on the table. A small puddle of drool was resting near his mouth, and his kilt was damp after he involuntarily urinated in his sleep. The corpulent beast snorted multiple times, mumbling and smacking his lips. He grimaced a few times, his head filled with disturbing images he couldn't comprehend. The shrew squinted and wiggled his big nose. He could still hear all the screaming and swords clanging in his dreams. He still remembered all those shrews he failed to protect, all the beasts who ended up falling because they didn't follow his orders. He even remembered urinating on their graves and grinning down at them, glad that they were slaughtered so he could replace those idiots with more competent beasts. Then all the screaming and clanging stopped. Log-a-Log couldn't tell whether it was the massive boom or the stinging stench he noticed first. The burly shrew snorted again and lifted his head, sniffling and exhaling multiple times.

"Fuckin'…Barlo?"

Log-a-Log blinked a few times and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He held his head and accidentally knocked over one of the empty bottles of shrewbeer onto the floor. Brugo took a few deep breaths before he placed his paws on his giant gut and passed gas. The shrew shut his eyes and waited until the vile sputtering stopped before he opened his eyes and exhaled. He put his paws on the table and stood up, groaning as his plump belly kept gurgling and sloshing around.

"Urgh…oi, Barlo! Fuck ye gone to?!"

Log-a-Log sluggishly dragged his footpaws towards the hut's front door. The same stench filled his nostrils again, causing the shrew to turn away. He reached behind and grasped the seat of his kilt just to make sure he didn't soil himself too. He blinked and grumbled; the smell certainly wasn't coming from him. Log-a-Log grabbed the door handle and opened the door.

"Barlo! Where'd—FUCK!"

Too many to count. Too many bodies spread around the ground. Their eyes lit up in the darkness. Their bodies were only illuminated with the campfires. He saw them before he saw his own shrews. Lizards. Dozens of them—hundreds, perhaps, if they were hiding beyond the trees. Log-a-Log swore softly and flicked his eyes in each direction. They were all around the river, surrounding his shrews and the boats. Many of them looked like monitors, their bodies large and bloated, their weapons dripping with blood. Log-a-Log noticed a few other reptiles he had never seen before as well—some thin and small, others tall and bulky. His shrews were there too, but the ones not lying on the ground either had a sword around their throat or they were standing in a defensive position with their rapiers out, ready to strike. Log-a-Log looked left and right as he stepped out into the open, exposing himself.

"Magnifizent, izn't it?"

Log-a-Log heard a deep hiss and looked forward. After a few seconds passed, a tall dark green monitor appeared from the crowd and slowly walked forward. He casually approached the chubby shrew and licked his choppers.

"Such a vazt army! Zo many lizardz…zo many belliez muzt be filled tonight. How lucky I muzt be to ztumble acrozz you tazty shrewz!"

Log-a-Log looked around when he heard more lizards either hissing or muttering "tazty shrewz" under their breath. The shrews still alive were snarling and backing away. Except for Barlo Arvack, who stomped towards Log-a-Log and pointed his rapier at the monitor.

"You try it. Ye jus' fuckin' try it!"

The monitor lizard stared at the skinnier shrew and hissed. "Try what?"

Log-a-Log flicked his eyes back and forth. Barlo was ready to die fighting, but he could tell that the beast was sweating and shaking. The shrew turned and noticed all the other shrews around the river—they were hopelessly outnumbered. Then he turned and looked back at the green monitor in front of him.

"Ye think we ain't ready ta walk through the Hellgates? If we all perish tonight, we're gunna make sure we take a whole lotta ya with us!"

The monitor growled and reached for his cutlass. "If you inzizt."

Log-a-Log looked at the two creatures and started to grin. "Oi, oi, 'old up a sec! Lower ye weapons! ALLA YE! LOWER YER WEAPONS NOW!"

The shrews looked at the Chieftain with confusion while some of the reptiles started to walk closer to the shrews. Barlo looked at Log-a-Log with wide eyes.

"Wot are you doin'?!"

"No, Barlo, wot are _ye_ doin'? Don't ye know this be a good, good pal o' mine?"

Log-a-Log laughed raucously as he walked over to the monitor lizard and stood by his side. He slapped the beast on the back hard and sniffed.

"Where ye been buddy?! If I 'ad known that good ol', um—"

"Krazzak."

"—Krassak were in these woods, I woulda told me Guosim t'stand down!"

Log-a-Log turned away from the lizard and stepped out into the crowd with his paws raised. "THIS HAS ALL BEEN A MISUNNERSTANDIN', FELLOW SHREWS! My-my friend here—he didn't mean ta ambush us like this! Poor fella ain't even know we was 'ere!"

Benrath, who was standing beside Kallin and a few other shrews, turned and stepped towards his father. "Dad, they killed some of us! I caught two of 'em eatin' Balor's fuckin' corpse!"

Krassak looked at Benrath and snorted. "An' you shrewz murdered many of my fellow lizardz. We only ate the corpzez 'coz we were zo damn hungry!"

"You _eat_ yer victims?"

Krassak hissed and folded his arms. "Got a problem with that?"

Log-a-Log butted in and chuckled awkwardly again. "Th-the point is, he attacked us, we attacked them. But now—now it's aaallllll fine! 'Cos it were merely a misunnerstandin'! As o' right now, I want none a' ye t'harm any o' these reptiles, savvy?"

"Dad—"

"Chieftain!" Barlo shouted. "We—ye can't be fuckin'—"

"ARE WE CLEAR OR NOT?!" Log-a-Log bellowed.

Krassak stepped beside Log-a-Log and grinned widely. "My fellow lizardz! Zeemz like yer Mighty One haz…made a miztake! Lower yer weaponz; we do not need them now. Theze shrewz are indeed our friendz!"

Krassak put a scaly paw on Log-a-Log's left shoulder and looked down at him. "Ain't that right, _pal_?"

Log-a-Log looked up at the lizard with an anxious smile. "Ye bet it is!"

Krassak raised his left arm and gestured for his lizards to lower their weapons. Several of them looked at each other with as much confusion as the shrews, but they did as they were told. All of the shrews murmured and flicked their eyes between one another, but after looking at their Chieftain, they proceeded to drop their weapons as well. Those who didn't lower them placed them back into their sheaths or waistsashes, still staring at the reptiles with caution.

"Now then…since all that's sorted out, please, be kind ta our guests! Make 'em feel welcome 'ere! Have 'em sample our famous shrewbeer; mingle with 'em, like we do t'all o' our 'friends'!"

"Dad, wot—"

"Shut up, Ben," Log-a-Log snarled.

The corpulent shrew turned and looked up at Krassak with a grin. "I think it's best if the two o' us have a chat inside me personal hut."

"Zeemz like a good idea. Gila! Get over here!"

Log-a-Log turned and blinked before he saw a massive, odd-colored reptile jogging towards the monitor. He hissed, letting Log-a-Log see his pale tongue.

"Wot iz it, Mighty One?"

"I want you to accompany me while Log-a-Log an' I have a 'zivil' converzation."

Log-a-Log turned away from Gila after catching wind of his breath. Gila merely hissed dryly and nodded.

"Wotever ye want, zah!"

"Che—CHEIFTAIN! Are ye seriously considerin' this?! We should be cuttin' this lizard's throat!"

"Yer more than welcome to join us, Barlo! An' I suggest ye watch yer tongue! Wouldn't want ta upset me ol' friend 'ere! He don't like ta get upset, do ya, Krassak?"

"No," said the lizard, as he crept towards Barlo. "No, I do not."

Log-a-Log looked at both individuals and chuckled. "Come along now! Let's get this mess sorted out!"

The two lizards nodded and followed Log-a-Log towards his hut, whilst Barlo kept his distance and walked behind Gila, ready to attack if need be.

* * *

He still had trouble walking, but at least he was capable of standing now. The small shrew stood inside of the hut, looking up at the older, thicker shrew with his kilt and tunic on. The older beast grabbed a mug of shrewbeer and quaffed the remainder of the glass in only a few seconds before slamming the glass down. The small shrew looked around the hut, wondering why the place was filled with weapons and various empty bottles. He blinked as he looked up at the thicker shrew again; the larger beast licked his lips as he walked towards his son.

"Lookit ye. Gonna be big an' strong, jus' like yer ol' father, won't ye?"

The short shrew responded by sticking his thumb in his mouth and sucking on it. His father blinked.

"Now, remember wot I told ye, son: full-grown beasts don't do that no more. Ye gotta stop suckin' ye damn thumb like that—yer almost two seasons old! Ye wanna grow up havin' everybeast teasin' ya?"

The young shrew had no idea what his father was talking about, so he continued to suck his thumb. The shrew's father huffed and rubbed his forehead.

"Never mind, we'll worry 'bout that later."

The shrew kept sucking his thumb as his father walked towards him and placed a paw on his prickly head. The young shrew grimaced; his father smelled like shrewbeer and musk. The bigger shrew rubbed his son's head for a moment before smiling.

"Ye thirsty, son?"

The shrew stopped sucking for a moment and looked up. He blinked and nodded, much to his father's delight.

"Good! 'Cos I got a special present for ye, son!"

The shrew resumed sucking on his thumb just as his father grabbed his kilt. The young beast watched as his father slowly pulled it down, exposing himself. He kicked his kilt aside and sighed heavily as he sat down in front of the young beast with his legs spread apart. The shrew looked at his father's private area and whimpered quietly.

"No, no, no—it's okay! Cummon son, yer awright! Hehe, one day, when yer old enough yer shaft'll be as big as this!"

The young shrew was still apprehensive. He didn't want anything to do with his father.

"Lemme show ye. See this right here? This be a shaft! All males—like ye—got one. Heh, yers is very tiny right now, but it'll grow as the years go by. An' these round things down 'ere, jus' beneath the shaft? Those are the balls. They're _very_ important, son—make sure they never get hurt. Y'see, the balls here create milk. An' the milk moves up into the shaft, then squirts out right 'ere, at the tip. Females don't got shafts or balls; they 'ave nasty, rank li'l slits, and blood comes out of 'em. But us males…"

The shrew glanced away as his father laughed and slowly rubbed himself. "We have precious, precious shafts. An' the milk we produce—the milk _I_ have fer ye…it's the best tastin' thing in the world. It's very easy to get it, son. All you gotta do is suck. Might take some time, but don't worry. It'll come out."

The young shrew still didn't understand. All he saw was a strange-looking part of the shrew's body that was leaking clear fluids onto the floor. The shrew thought it was some kind of water; he figured the milk would come out later. He took his thumb out his mouth and mumbled as he slowly walked over to his father's shaft. He got on his paws and knees when he was close enough, and then he started to open his mouth. The shrew's father started to breathe heavily.

"Good boy…th-that's…that's a good boy…

* * *

Barlo and Gila stood far away from each other, their arms folded. The shrew couldn't stop scowling while the bloated reptile couldn't stop grinning and flicking his tongue at him. Log-a-Log and Krassak were sitting down at the Chieftain's table, discussing their situation as they ate crunchy shellfish.

"I must admit, I almost shit m'self when I saw ye horde! 'Ow many lizards ye got now?" asked Log-a-Log, his mouth filled with mackerel.

Krassak drank some shrewbeer and gulped hard before he set his mug down. "Why'z that important?"

"'Cos it'll help me determine a few things."

"What thingz?"

Log-a-Log paused. He reached over and stuffed a giant shrimp into his mouth. He chewed on the seafood noisily, not caring that he didn't remove it from its shell. "Tell me…wot is it ye want, Mighty Krassak?"

"A rapier shoved up his arsehole sounds nice," Barlo growled.

Krassak ignored him and answered. "What I want…hmm. What iz it that everybeazt wantz? Food. Shelter. Zomething to entertain them. It'z zimple thingz that I want. I don't underztand why everybeazt elze can't give uz what we want without a fight."

"Neither do I."

Krassak started to grin slowly. "The food I dezire comez from the flesh of the kindbeaztz I kill. The shelter I dezire iz of the homez I ranzack, of the villagez an' communitiez I take over. An' my entertainment…you ever watch zomethin' burn to the ground, Chieftain?"

"Many times."

"Such a joy, ain't it? To look at thiz carefully…thiz structure that zomebeazt zpent zo much time an' effort into building! An' then a zingle zpark turnz into a fire. Fire zpreadz quickly, destroyz everythin' it touchez, leavez nothin' behind but the tattered remainz of what uzed t'be a nize, constructed home. That'z what I enjoy, Chieftain."

Log-a-Log swallowed the other piece of shrimp he shoveled into his mouth. "Destruction. Heh. Lotta beasts love that! Now, as fer me—"

"Fuck this," Barlo snapped.

Gila snarled noisily when Barlo took out his rapier and stomped towards Krassak. The Chieftain and monitor lizard rose from their seats just as Barlo pointed his rapier at the reptile.

"Kill 'im! Take out yer blade an' put it in this cold beast's skull!"

"Barlo, I am _tryin'_ t'ave a conversation here. There's no need—"

"Are you off yer fuckin' nut, Chieftain?! We-we—there's no good in wot yer doin'! We can't ally ourselves with this beast—he'll devour us alive! He'll be the death of the Guosim! Is that wot ye want?! Ye really wanna sit 'ere an'-an'-an' talk to this creature like some civil beast?!"

"Yes."

"Pirates, the Long Patrol, slavers, mercenaries—we can't keep doin' this, Chieftain. Ye 'ave t'draw a line somewhere! This monster is a cannibal who jus' told ye he spends his free time burnin' shit up an' killin' innocent beasts!"

"Lower yer weapon," Log-a-Log growled.

"Thin-think about it, sah! Ye wanna make sure the goodbeasts don't get wind o' all the shady shit we do? Kill this lizard! Set his head on a fuckin' spike—let everybeast 'round here know that nobeast fucks with the Guosim, that we protect this forest an' these waters from vile creatures like him! Kill 'im now or I'll do it for ya!"

Log-a-Log flicked his eyes up at Barlo as the shrew gritted his teeth and held his rapier firmly. Then he looked at Gila and Krassak, both of whom were grinning and reaching down to take out their weapons. Perhaps his loyal guard was right. Perhaps he was making a mistake by even talking to these beasts. After all, it'd only be a matter of time before they betrayed or killed him once they served their purpose. So Log-a-Log stood from his chair and snorted. He nodded quickly and sucked on his teeth.

"Yer right, Barlo! Who the fuck d'ye think ye are, comin' 'round 'ere killin' me soldiers, takin' us hostage an' thinkin' ye could waltz in 'ere hopin' to make sum kinda deal with me?! I'm Log-a-Log fuckin' Brugo, the leader of the Guosim, the finest soldiers ye'll ever see roamin' on these rivers! An' I dun' take kindly ta beasts like you who think they c'n overthrow me shrews without even a proper fight!"

Krassak chuckled and shrugged. "Zo what? You gonna kill me now? You'd rather zacrifice all yer zoldierz juzt to make a point an' keep yer pride intact?"

Barlo spat near the lizard. "Fuck you. We ain't scared o' some fuck—"

Log-a-Log grabbed the back of Barlo's head and slammed it against the table. The shrew shouted and dropped his rapier just as Log-a-Log lifted his head back up. He grunted and slammed it down a second time, and then a third, breaking his nose in the process. The fat shrew moved quickly; he removed a knife from his waistsash. And then he snarled as he shoved the blade into Barlo's scalp. Log-a-Log's second in command made a few odd gurgling noises as blood oozed down his head. Log-a-Log removed the knife and stabbed him a second time, and then Barlo stopped moving. But the Shrew Chieftain didn't care. He stabbed him several more times over, grunting or snarling each time the blade emitted a squelching crunch and punctured Barlo's cranium. By the time Log-a-Log finished, there was blood all over the table, as well as the shrew's paws and knife. The Shrew Chieftain panted a few times before he shoved Barlo's corpse onto the floor. He inhaled sharply and proceeded to sit back down.

"Well, I…I think I jus' answered yer question!"

Krassak flicked his eyes down at Barlo before staring at Log-a-Log again. "You want dead shrewz at yer footpawz?"

"Wot I want is fer beasts t'lissen to me. Wot I want is fer beasts t'do wotever the fuck I tell 'em to. Wot I want is the same thing you want, the same thing Badger Lords an' vermin warlords an' pirates want: power."

Log-a-Log sighed as he started to wipe his knife clean. "I spent many seasons usin' me mouth as a weapon, makin' sure I got other beasts t'do my work fer me whilst I sat 'ere on me fat arse an' drank, ate, an' fucked when need be. But as ye c'n see, I'm much older now."

Log-a-Log looked down at his immense gut and patted it twice. "An' clearly much fatter. As fun as it is sittin' 'ere, mindin' me own business, well…I'm like you, Krassak. I love fire. I love watchin' things burn. But I didn't notice 'til now that I'm only _startin'_ the fire, settin' things alight. I never stick around t'see wot I lit burn."

Log-a-Log grinned menacingly. "I think it's time I change that."

Gila lowered his arms and hissed as he walked beside his leader. "An' why should any o' uz ally ourzelvez wit' you? The Mighty One here iz the only beazt I'll follow!"

"Ye all need me. Without me, ye'll be wonderin' 'round these woods lookin' fer random shit t'do. I take it none a' ye know yer way 'round Mossflower?"

Krassak shook his head.

"Good. 'Cos I do. I know these rivers, these woods, the quarries, groves, villages, which paths t'take to avoid Redwall, MSB camps—everythin'. The Guosim knows all. _I_ know all. An' I have many, many friends. I c'n meet up with certain beasts, get 'em t'lower their guard. Then you an' all yer lizards c'n sweep in an'—"

"Fuck 'em all in the arze," Krassak finished.

Log-a-Log laughed boisterously. "Ye catch on quick! But yes, that's wot I'm proposing! I have all the knowledge ye need t'navigate Mossflower an' avoid unwanted attention properly! But you? Ye 'ave all the beasts I need. Ye have the strength in numbers that'll greatly help me—us…help _us_ get wot we want. We both wanna set fires. We both want power. An' we both hate this fuckin' forest. So y'see, we _must_ form a partnership. Together, we'll crush anybeast who stands in our way, an' we'll take this forest fer all its worth!"

Log-a-Log raised his right arm and extended his bloody paw forward. "Do we have a deal?"

Krassak Ralfur stared at the shrew's grin. He thought for a brief moment about what the Chieftain was proposing, about how their future plans would turn out. He couldn't help but smile and laugh as he reached over and gripped Log-a-Log's paw firmly.

"Deal."

* * *

He knew it was gonna happen again. It always happened; half the time he rarely tried to hide it. And the young shrew knew his friend would find it just as hilarious as he did. The two creatures snickered softly as they crept inside the hut. One of them was taken aback by the stench while the other was grinning.

"Phew! Ye sure he didn't go already?!"

The other shrew shook his head. "He always gets like this. A big meal, a few shrewbeers, an' he's stinkin' up the place in no time!"

The young shrews crept over to the giant beast sleeping face-down on his cot. The large beast snorted a couple of times before a ghastly sputtering nose erupted from his behind. One of the shrews plugged his nose and scowled.

"Geez. Didn't know ye father was such a gasbag!"

"Shh! Wait-wait—it's 'bout to happen!"

The two shrews watched for a moment as the old shrew kept grunting and groaning in his sleep. Everything was silent for a moment until the shrews heard a deep crackling sound. And then the hut was quickly filled with more sputtering noises, accompanied with faint squelches. Both shrews broke out into a fit of laughter as the sleeping shrew sighed. The old shrew's son collapsed to the floor, almost on the verge of tears as he rolled around. The other shrew quickly backed away and waved a paw in front of his face.

"Ugh! He does that _all_ the time?!"

The other shrew sniffled and tried to speak in-between his laughter. "Ev-every—every fuckin' time! It's like clockwork mate; I'm start—startin' t'think he do it on purpose!"

The young shrews broke out into laughter again, no longer bothered by the odor. The sleeping shrew mumbled and slowly opened his eyes after hearing the cacophony. He sluggishly got out of bed and flared his nostrils once the smell filled his nose.

"…Fuck is that?" he mumbled.

"Oi, oi, Chieftain! Heheha, ye…I think ye got some mud in ye kilt!"

The Shrew Chieftain blinked and sniffed the air again. Then he quickly reached behind and grabbed his bottom. His eyes grew wide. The Chieftain looked down at the two beasts laughing at him and started to grit his teeth. He made a fist with his right paw before he looked at the beast who was plugging his nose and chortling so hard he sounded like he couldn't breathe. The Chieftain snarled as he grabbed the shrew by the throat and head. And then he jerked the shrew's head around until he heard a series of faint cracks. The other young shrew stopped laughing and gasped as he watched his father toss the other shrew down. Then the Chieftain looked at his son and snorted. The young shrew didn't even have time to stand before his father started punching him in the face. He shouted and lied on the floor, panting and holding his paws up in defense. But his father continued to beat him mercilessly, punching and slapping him across the face until he started to bleed.

"Ye think it's funny? Ye think spyin' on me when I'm indecent is fuckin' funny?!"

The Chieftain kicked his son in the ribs, causing him to yowl. The young shrew sobbed constantly as he began to shake his head.

"I'm—I'm sorry! I'M SORRY, FATHER!"

The Chieftain punched him again, causing blood to spew from his mouth. The irate shrew was about to beat him some more until he realized he could easily kill his son if he punched too hard. He stared at the young crying shrew as he snorted constantly and tried to calm himself down. The Chieftain grabbed the waistband of his kilt and started to pull it down.

"Y'know wot? Since ye think it's funny watchin' yer father shit hisself, HERE!"

The chubby shrew tossed his soiled trousers on top of his son. "Clean it up! I want me kilt spotless by the time I finish bathin'! An' don't ye _dare_ tell anybeast else 'bout this, or they're gonna end up like yer friend! Unnerstand?!"

"Y-yes! I…I unnerstand…I'm sorry—"

The shrew shouted again when his father kicked him in the stomach. The Chieftain scoffed as he stomped towards the door.

"Fuckin' twat," he muttered.

The giant beast walked outside and slammed the door shut, leaving his sobbing son to carry out the grotesque deed.

* * *

He didn't like the way they looked at him, how they talked, how they smelled. Was his Chieftain mad? They were all staring at the shrews at though they were pieces of meat, nothing more. Jurlick couldn't deal with it. Mingle with them? Make them feel welcome? How could Log-a-Log _possibly_ consider them to be his friends? How could these shrews _possibly_ work with them? There had to be a reason behind all this—there must've been a greater purpose over working with such vile creatures. Jurlick tried his best not to look at or bump into any lizards, but it did no good. Anytime he walked past some of them, the lizards would either hiss at him or give him uncomfortable stares. Jurlick's spine went cold when one lizard walked behind him and sniffed him. Jurlick took out his rapier and turned around, scowling.

"Back the fuck off," he snarled.

The gray lizard stared at Jurlick and grinned widely. Then she hissed and laughed in the beast's face. Jurlick grunted as the reptile bumped into him and walked away; the shrew lowered his weapon and exhaled. He didn't know if he could stay in the Guosim any longer. Unless these lizards left and Log-a-Log decided to turn his brain on, then the Guosim wasn't the tribe for him. Jurlick was about to start walking away when he heard somebeast else creeping up behind him. The shrew exhaled as he turned around and looked at the monitor.

"I told ye, go the fuck away!"

Jurlick stared at the tall, bluish-gray reptile and froze. The large beast looked down at Jurlick and licked his teeth.

"An' wot'z your name, tazty shrew? Mine'z Rowgat."

Jurlick would've been fine exposing his name to the beast. But when he looked down at the lizard's shorts, he noticed the ominous bulge he had seen many times before when he was aroused. Jurlick snarled as he reached up and shoved the scaly beast backwards.

"I don't prefer males ye fuckin' faggot! Go find somebeast else t'stick yer cock…err, cocks into!"

Rowgat quickly stomped back over towards Jurlick. The shrew swallowed hard, and then yelped when Rowgat grabbed him and picked him up off the ground.

"I'm lookin' at him."

Rowgat's snout was so close to Jurlick's face that he could smell his putrid breath. Jurlick whimpered when the creature's pale tongue came out his mouth and slapped against his nose. Jurlick panted a couple of times before he smiled awkwardly.

"H-he-hey! Hey now, I'm sorry! Who-who ye enjoy stickin' yer cock into ain't none o' me business, is it? But, um, but I-I don't…I'm into females, Rowgat. So mebbe-mebbe ye could find somebeast who _does_ prefer males?"

"Or maybe I can throw you on the ground, ztick my cocks in yer mouth to shut you up. How'z that zound?"

"Wait-wait—I-I know somebeast! Yeah, yeah! I-I do—oh, y-ye'll love him!"

"Yer juzt ztallin'—"

"He's Log-a-Log's son! Ben-Benrath Brugo's his name!"

Rowgat blinked. He gradually lowered Jurlick to the ground and hissed. "Go on."

"Oh-oh…y-yeah, Rowgat! He's—he's one o' the biggest faggots the Guosim has t'offer! Real chubby too—ye-ye like chubby beasts?"

"Very much zo, yez."

Jurlick snickered. "Then yer gunna love Benrath! He's got a big ol' belly, although nowhere near as big as his father's. Nice arse too now that I mention it. Benrath's…he don't care. Otters, rabbits, reptiles, vermin, shrews, hedgehogs—he'll bend o'er fer all of 'em. Fucker can't stop takin' it up the arse. His breath always smells of somebeast else's seed; he-he's always musky an' smells like he were jus' in a fuckin' orgy. Sometimes he'll gather up some shrews an' let 'em all tug one out in front of him, whilst he sits on the ground an' lets everybeast come all o'er his body."

Jurlick stepped close to the monitor and rubbed his chin. "I got an idea," he said, his voice low.

"Wot?"

"You…you gather up any lizard in yer clan o' army, wotever the fuck it is, an' ye wait near the grove 'side the river. Ye know where it is, yeah?"

Rowgat nodded. "Yeah."

"Awright. I'll-I'll go fetch Benrath meself. He's kinda shy 'round ye lizard folk. But he's pent-up too—ain't had sex in o'er a week. I'm sure he'll be _delighted_ at the present I'm about to offer him."

Rowgat laughed and patted Jurlick's head. "Zoundz like a brilliant plan! You go an' fetch the chubby cockzucker. I'll find zome lizardz an' we'll wait 'til we zee him. 'Bout time we had another orgy…"

Jurlick chuckled nervously as he removed the lizard's paw from his head. "Sounds good t'me!"

The shrew walked away from Rowgat and started to jog in the darkness, hoping to find Benrath before Rowgat changed his mind.

* * *

Benrath was just as confused as everybeast else. Vermin were one thing, but lizards? His father had to be drunk; he had to be running his mouth off again or somehow figuring out a way to use these lizards to his advantage. The shrew leaned against one of the logboats, keeping his eyes on all the lizards and snakes that walked or slithered by. Benrath glanced to his left and saw Lugo shuddering and gripping his knife's handle.

"Stay calm."

"H-how the fuck am I s'posed t'do that?! Lookit 'em! Lookit 'ow many—"

"I know. But if they see we're afraid, y'know wot they could do to us."

"No, I don't know. That's wot worries me mate!"

"Then stop shakin'. My-my father will handle it. He'll manage to make this all work in his favour…he always does."

Benrath heard more footsteps in the distance and moved from the tree. He waited until the figure in the distance revealed himself from the darkness before he relaxed and sighed.

"Jurlick. Ye frightened by all these lizards too?"

The other shrew shook his head. "No, it's not that. Cummon—I need ye right now!"

Benrath raised an eyebrow. "For wot?"

"I think some o' them lizards are about to attack the Chieftain! He got drunk again—I think they're leadin' him to a trap! We gotta go now!"

Benrath didn't need further explanation. The second Jurlick broke off into a sprint, he followed him. Lugo stared at the two beasts and trailed behind them, finding Jurlick's story a bit off. The three shrews jogged through the forest for a few minutes. Benrath and Lugo couldn't see Jurlick grinning, nor could they hear him snickering softly. When the beasts arrived beside a grove, the trio slowed down, and Lugo started to scowl.

"So _where_ is the Chieftain?"

Jurlick blinked. "Close by. Yer gunna see 'im soon."

Benrath and Lugo walked around slowly. They heard a series of footsteps and heavy breathing all around the grove. They could see a campfire in the distance, along with several brawny beasts with thick tails crowding around it. One of them turned around and looked at Benrath and Lugo. He moved away from the group of lizards and stepped towards the shrews.

"Which one of you iz Benrath?"

"That'd be me," Benrath boasted as he stepped forward. "Who the fuck are ye s'posed t'be?"

Rowgat chuckled. "Zee, when you mentioned the word 'fuck'…"

Benrath stared at the scaly beast before his eyes grew wide. Lugo started to pant.

"Jurlick, wot d'ye—"

Lugo started to gasp as he was stabbed in the neck. Benrath turned and glared at Jurlick as he stood beside Lugo with his knife jammed into his throat.

"The fuck?! Wot—OW! GET OFF! GET THE FUCK—JURLICK!"

Jurlick removed his blade from Lugo's throat. He watched as the shrew collapsed onto his stomach and continued to gurgle and gasp. Jurlick chuckled softly as he stepped away from the dying shrew and looked at Benrath and Rowgat. The giant lizard was dragging Benrath by his head, digging his claws into his scalp as he hauled him over to the campfire.

"JURLICK! HELP ME!"

"Why the fuck would I do that?"

Rowgat snarled as he shoved Benrath to the ground beside the burning logs. The shrew quickly got to his footpaws and pulled out his rapier. He panted as he looked around at all the monitor lizards slowly closing him into a circle. Benrath ran towards the nearest lizard he could find and ran his rapier through his side, causing the lizard to yelp.

"You try it. Any a' ye, jus' fuckin' try it!"

Benrath looked at Rowgat again and noticed he stepped to the side so Jurlick could aim at him. Benrath gasped when he spotted the sling in Jurlick's paws. He defended himself as the beast launched his rock, and then yelped when the rock bounced off his right paw. His grip loosened just long enough for one of the lizards to sneak up behind him and snatch the weapon away from him. Benrath jerked his head around and shouted, only for another reptile to grab his tunic. The shrew snarled and shoved the lizard away, ripping his tunic in the process. Two of the lizards hissed at the shrew and began to step closer to him. Benrath panted as he started to take out his dagger and began to spin around. The shrew stumbled as he stepped near the campfire; he yelped and backed away. A lizard spun around and tripped Benrath with his thick tail, causing the shrew to drop his dagger. By the time he realized he dropped it, another lizard kicked it away. The shrew looked at some of the monitors and frowned. The beasts were beginning to lower their trousers.

"No…" he whimpered.

All he could do was stare. Some of the lizards were fully erect, their hemipenes exposed and releasing small amounts of pre-ejaculate. Others were hissing noisily as they spread their legs. Benrath whimpered again when he saw one of the lizards' slits widen so the two copulatory organs would emerge. Benrath got to his footpaws again and screamed when somebeast grabbed his kilt and yanked them down. The shrew tripped again, right into a lizard's arms. The lizard snarled at him and shoved him away while Rowgat kicked him from behind, and then kicked his kilt aside. The shrew shouted as he landed on his stomach, leaving his bottom exposed.

"There we go! Now you juzt hold ztill…"

Benrath sobbed as he began to crawl away. "NO! GET THE FUCK BACK! GET—HELP!"

That was all he could do now. Jurlick just stabbed him in the back, and Lugo must've bled out by now. But surely there was somebeast else out there who could fend off the lizards and rescue him. With any luck, he'd be able to get away from the foul beasts before they assaulted him. Rowgat pulled down his trousers and slowly approached Benrath.

"Wot the fuck is alla this?!"

Benrath froze. He almost thought he'd break out into a fit of joyful tears. Three of the lizards stepped aside and revealed the beast who came to Benrath's rescue. Benrath smiled and let out another sob as he quickly rose and ran towards his father.

"You came! S-s-see—I knew it! I knew somebeast would hear me!"

Benrath cowered by Log-a-Log's side, shaking as he pointed at the lizards. "Th-they tried…they were gunna rape me, Dad! They…" Benrath's eyes started to water. "Jurlick killed Lugo! He-he told us ye were in trouble, led us o'er here! The second the lizards saw us, they cornered me an' Jurlick murdered Lugo in cold blood!"

Log-a-Log flicked his eyes at Jurlick, who was standing near the lizards as if they were going to protect him now. Then he looked at all the scaly beasts around him and gritted his teeth.

"Is all this true?"

Rowgat stared at the Chieftain and shrugged. "More or lezz."

Log-a-Log started to clench his paws into fists. "Ye fuckin' twats! Here I am tryin' to conduct business with ye leader, an' ye think ye c'n spend yore free time tryin' to rape my son?! _My_ son! None a' ye fucks c'n claim him! None a' ye 'ave any right to treat him this way! An' none a' ye, absolutely _none_ o' ye scaly bastards is gonna stand 'ere an' thrust yer slimy cocks into me son behind me back!"

Benrath stared at his father and started to smile. Maybe he was hard on him at times. Maybe he shouted or got angry when he didn't need to. Maybe he was a drunk who needed to lose some weight. But no matter what his father did, no matter how much of a turncoat he could be to other beasts, at least he still loved and cared for him. Log-a-Log turned and faced his son. And then he grinned widely and showed off his teeth.

"At least, not until I 'ave a go at 'im first."

Benrath went cold. He stared at his father with wide eyes and whimpered. Log-a-Log took a step towards Benrath and started to rub his groin.

"…Wot?"

"Cummon son! It'll be jus' like ol' times again!"

"Ye…ye promised," Benrath croaked. "Ye-ye told me ye'd stop…"

"I say many things, my son. Not all of which is true."

Benrath started to sniffle and pant. "Ye told me ye wouldn't do it no more!"

"I know son, but I can't help it. Yore so…so perfect. Ye c'n suck me off like no other beast I've met. An' the way ye squirm…"

Log-a-Log shuddered and started to drool. "It's been so, so long, my son. An' I'm in a very, very good mood tonight! So I'll make ye a deal: ye don't scream too much, an' I'll be gentle. Ye'll hardly—"

"FUCK YOU!" Benrath wailed. "Ye told me ye were gunna stop! Ye-ye told me ye'd treat me like a real son! You fuckin'—"

Benrath shouted and fell down when Jurlick bashed him across the head with a thick stick. Log-a-Log looked down at his son with the grin still on his face whilst the lizards moved and formed a circle around the two shrews. Benrath moaned softly as he reached backwards and groped his head. Log-a-Log snickered as he stood behind his son and grabbed his kilt.

"Ye weren't even two. Ye weren't even two seasons old an' ye sucked me off like a fuckin' quean!"

"No…" Benrath whined.

"Admit it," Log-a-Log said as he dropped his kilt. "Say ye enjoyed it. Say ye like suckin' yer father's cock."

"No!"

"Say ye enjoyed all those times I came to yer room and thrust me way inside ye while ye slept!"

"NO!"

"Cummon, son! I know ye wanted it! I know ye enjoyed it 'cos sometimes ye'd come when I did too!"

"FUCK YOU! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME YOU—"

Benrath shut his mouth when Log-a-Log kicked him in the face. The rotund beast growled as he stood in front of his son.

"I'm irritated now. Ye know how I get when I'm irritated…"

"Da…daddy please. Please! I'm-I'm sorry! I'm sorry for—"

"Irritation leads to anger. Anger leads to pain. I'm assumin' ye dun' care 'bout how much pain you can take?"

"PLEASE! I'm sorry, Father; I'm sorry! Please don't hurt me…"

Benrath was sobbing now, sniffling and wailing as the tears started to run down his face. All the lizards around him offered no help and kept staring at him. Some of them were already stroking themselves, as if they knew what was coming. Benrath sniffled noisily before he shut his eyes and shook his head.

"I DON'T WANNA DO THIS ANYMORE!"

Log-a-Log slowly walked over to his son as he continued to cry and crouched down beside him. He reached over and patted his head as the shrew slowly opened his eyes.

"Too bad, son. 'Cos I do," he whispered.

Benrath shouted as his father slapped him across the face and knocked him down. Benrath shook as he found himself on his stomach again. But this time around, Log-a-Log pinned him down before he had the chance to crawl or stand up. The Chieftain's son panted and pleaded as he jerked his legs around and clawed at the ground. More lizards were starting to masturbate, and from the way it sounded, one of them was about to ejaculate. Benrath kept screaming for help, kept hollering and shouting out Jurlick's name, thinking the beast would help him. But Jurlick stood idly by with his arms folded, grinning as widely as Log-a-Log did. Benrath whined when Log-a-Log shoved his head into the ground. He could hear the pudgy beast panting and growling from behind. He could feel his father pressing his paws down on his back as he took position. At that point he felt like giving up; he knew what was coming now. But the beast kept clawing at the ground, pulling up grass and dirt as he wailed uncontrollably.

He never got used to it. Even now, the pain was agonizing. Benrath shut his eyes and moaned as his father thrust into him and towered over his body. He could feel his father pausing for a moment, and then his length started to tear through his insides. Benrath clawed at the ground a few more times before he gradually stopped. It was too late now. The shrew whimpered as his father moved back and forth, grunting and panting with each thrust. Benrath could smell his father's rank breath as he panted on the back of his head; he could feel his heavy belly pressing up against his spine. He felt like the overweight shrew was crushing him as he raped him. All the lizards were laughing at him or hissing wildly, stroking one of their hemipenes so fast that pre-ejaculate was leaking out. One of the lizards standing beside Benrath came and squirted his seed against the right side of Benrath's face. Log-a-Log must've been aroused by the action, because he started to thrust into his son much quicker. Benrath stopped crying so much and resorted to moaning and whimpering. All he could do was wait.

His body went limp. Benrath couldn't even tell if he was shaking anymore. His father's moans and snarls were much more boisterous to his whimpers. Benrath shouted when Log-a-Log dug his claws into his son's back, gripping his tunic so hard his claws tore the fabric and scratched his flesh. His father was beginning to slow down; his grunts were heavier and his moaning was deep. Another lizard came, this time spraying his creamy fluids a few feet in front of Benrath's face. Benrath heard a few hefty grunts from behind as Log-a-Log thrust into him hard. He paused, and the Chieftain started to inhale sharply. Benrath felt his father thrust once, twice, thrice, and then he bellowed. Benrath squeaked. All the fluids gushed inside his anus in a short amount of time. He tried to push it out, but the semen kept flowing, filling up his rectum. Benrath whined and waited as he listened to his father panting from exhaustion. The fat shrew kept his penis inside for another minute until he started to become flaccid. Then Log-a-Log rumbled as he pulled out. The heavy beast exhaled noisily before he rubbed his forehead and chuckled.

"There. That weren't so bad, now was it?"

Benrath didn't even have the strength to tell the beast "fuck you." He lay very still and continued to whimper as he felt his father's seed oozing out of his hole. Log-a-Log walked over and put his kilt back on as Rowgat approached him.

"He's all yores!"

Benrath's eyes grew wide. He thought it was all over until he remembered that the lizards were still surrounding him. Benrath sobbed as he sluggishly reached forward and started to drag his body along the ground.

"N-no…please…" Benrath said weakly.

"Been a very long time zince I fucked one a' you shrewz," Rowgat growled.

Rowgat jogged towards Benrath and pounced on the shrew. And then Benrath started screaming again once he felt the lizard plunging his shaft into his anus.

* * *

Benrath was lying on the floor of the giant logboat hut, shaking and whimpering, his anus sore. Log-a-Log bent over and licked some of the seed from his son's bottom before he chuckled.

"Ye did good t'day, son! Didn't even scream much."

Benrath shut his eyes and huffed twice. He stood on wobbly legs as he let his father's ejaculate dribble from his anus. The beast sniffled and rubbed his nose as his father threw himself on his cot.

"Come to bed, son. I'm sure ye must be tired!"

"…Dad?"

Log-a-Log blinked. "Hmm?"

Benrath slowly turned and stared at his father, still naked and bruised. "I…I don't wanna…this has to stop. I'm…I'm tired, Father. I'm…"

"If yore tired, then come sleep with me."

"Fifteen seasons now…ain't that enough? I'm almost sixteen; haven't ye done this enough? Aren't ye tired yet?"

"No," Log-a-Log said bluntly.

Benrath shook his head. "I can't do this anymore…ye-ye have…ye have to stop."

Log-a-Log sat up on his cot and blinked. "Is that wot ye want? I thought we were havin' fun!"

"Th-this isn't fun, Dad! I just…please."

"It's not fun havin' somebeast laugh at ye when ye shit yoreself in bed, but ya did _that_ , didn't ya?"

"Dad…"

Log-a-Log began to frown when he saw his son looking down at the floor. The big shrew stood up and walked over to his son. He reached over and gently rubbed his head in an attempt to comfort him.

"How 'bout this: after ye turn eighteen seasons, I'll stop. Ye'll be free t'do wotever ya please; ye'll be free to fuck whoever ye wanna. Jus' two more seasons, Ben. I think that's more than fair, don't ye?"

Benrath sniffled and nodded. "Sure…sure, yeah. Two more seasons…I guess…I guess that'll work."

The Chieftain grinned and chuckled. He wrapped his arms around his son's back and pressed him close to his enormous gut. Log-a-Log patted his son's back and rubbed his neck.

"I love ye, son. So very much. D'ye love me?"

Benrath nodded. "Yes."

"Then say it," Log-a-Log snarled. "When ye love somebeast, ye say so."

"I…I love you, Father."

Log-a-Log snickered. "That's right. _My_ son loves _me_."

Log-a-Log lowered his arms and looked down at his son's face. "Now come to bed with me."

Benrath stared at his father's grin. He flicked his eyes down at his penis just long enough to notice that he was flaccid. But Ben knew that'd change the moment he woke up. Nevertheless, Benrath didn't have a choice in the matter. He knew how his father became when he was angry. He had to listen. It was the only option.

"Okay."

* * *

So many times he thought he'd be used to it. He thought his anus would become numb. He thought he could block it out, pretend that something else was happening. But every single time, he cried and screamed. And every single time a lizard came, his entire body felt sorer. Now he was numb, unsure if he could physically stand anymore. His tunic had been torn so badly that one of the lizards ripped it off. A few bite marks were on his back, along with various cuts and some bruises around his spine. His entire body stank of musk, saliva and semen, as if he just walked away from an orgy. He could still taste some of the lizards' seed (and in some cases, urine) in his maw. His anus felt like it had been ripped in half over and over again; even now, it still felt like somebeast had fallen asleep on top of him with their shaft lodged inside his rump. A very large puddle of semen was resting on the ground behind Benrath's bottom. At some point, his bowels cut and he left a nasty pile of excrement behind him as well. But the lizards kept raping him, regardless of how filthy his rectum was. Benrath shut his eyes and croaked. He was hoping his body would shut down and carrying his soul on to the Dark Forest.

"Ain't that just a damn shame? The son of Log-a-Log, a victim of nasty lizard cocks. HA! Can't say I envy you, buddy!"

Benrath opened his eyes and looked in front of him. Jurlick was standing there, grinning and folding his arms.

"How's it feel, Ben? Hmm? How's it fuckin' feel, to be humiliated in front o' everybeast like that?"

Benrath didn't care anymore. He just wanted help. The shrew whimpered as he slowly raised his left arm and extended a paw. Jurlick looked at his paw like it was riddled with the plague and slapped it away.

"D'ye think I'd jus' forget? Hmm? Ye think my brain would cut off, that I'd forget wot ye did t'me, that we'd suddenly become friends?! Ye emasculated me in front o' my friends! Ye took a shite in me fuckin' mouth! An' I'm s'posed—"

Jurlick raised both paws and chuckled. "S'awright! S'awright now! S'aaaaaaalllll good! Hehe, Tileer, Lugo, Menryl—they're all dead 'cos o' me, Ben. Ye ain't got no friends left, do ya? An' now yer nuthin' more than yer father's li'l bitch."

Jurlick nodded slowly and sucked on his teeth. "Surprised ye ain't come too. The way ye must fantasize 'bout havin' cocks shoved up yer arse—I thought ye'd be _beggin'_ yer father t'do that to ye! Ah well. Least I enjoyed m'self. An' from the look on yore father's face, I'm sure he did too. …Oh, right. 'Fore I ferget…"

Benrath looked up at Jurlick as he lowered his kilt slightly and took out his penis. Then Ben shut his eyes as he felt warm fluids splashing against his face. Jurlick laughed as he urinated on the shrew, hoping to get some of his waste inside his mouth. Benrath didn't move or try to shield himself. He merely tilted his head down and let the yellow fluids splash onto his head.

"There we go! …This don't make us even though. Only reason I ain't takin' a shit on ye is 'cos I don't gotta go right now. But I'm sure I c'n rectify that in the mornin'!"

The fluids stopped splashing, and Benrath slowly lifted his head back up. He let out a hoarse shout when Jurlick kicked him in the jaw.

"Do us all a favour an' just kill yerself. Be a lot easier that way!"

Benrath didn't look at Jurlick anymore. He waited until the beast walked away from him, laughing and mocking the shrew behind his back. After a moment, Ben was alone. There was nothing nearby to give him strength, nobeast around to help him. All he had was Lugo's body, his scars and bruises, and the mess behind him. He shut his eyes. Benrath thought about crying some more. He thought about walking into the river and letting the current take him away. He thought about submitting to his father's demands. Maybe that would be best. Maybe he'd be better off submitting to them all and being a slave to his father and the lizards. Maybe he…

No. No more. He was done with that. As Benrath lied in the soil feeling sorry for himself, a feral, primal instinct started to lift his spirits again.

Rage.


	8. All Together Now

**XXXII**

 **All Together Now**

One last play. Lizards wouldn't help him. Pirates wouldn't help him. The goodbeasts of the forest definitely wouldn't go near him once they figured out who he was. So that only left the Guosim. He ran across the shrews a few times before. He engaged in a few deals here and there with their Chieftain. All he had to do was walk up to Log-a-Log and bow, maybe kiss his footpaws if necessary. If he said the right words and told the shrew what he wanted to hear, he could be a Guosim advocate for the next few seasons. Soon enough, everybeast would know about Darktail the Schemer, about how he managed to overthrow all these lizards and every other beast tormenting the land. The Guosim would keep him safe. The Guosim would protect him. He knew they would. They'd better. The sly fox knew he could easily turn everything against Log-a-Log if they didn't. He knew the MSB would be delighted to hear about some of the dastardly acts he committed in the past. But the vulpine was out of options. He needed friends, not more enemies.

The fox traveled alongside the river, panting heavily as sweat ran down his face. Darktail stopped for a moment and leaned against one of the trees so he could exhale sharply. He shut his eyes and rubbed his forehead as his stomach began to growl. He ran out of food, and the berries he consumed only sated his hunger for an hour. Darktail wiped the sweat off his face before he lifted his right footpaw and winced. Blisters. Fucking great, he thought. It was bad enough that he had been wandering around the woods by himself for over a day now. It was even worse that his body was beginning to take its toll and he was slowly getting more paranoid as each hour passed. And if that wasn't bad enough, he could smell those lizards in the distance again. Darktail put his footpaw down and resumed his journey. And then he swore after hearing a nasty snarl.

"Iz that a fox I zmell?"

The vulpine scrambled up a tree so fast he nearly popped the blisters on his footpaw in the process. He kept his mouth shut as he scampered up to the highest branch. But it was already too late. The monitor had spotted him. Darktail stayed on the branch anyway, hoping that the beast down below would lose track of him or suspect that he was still on the ground. He moved one of the branches aside and glanced down so he could get a better look at what he saw. Thankfully, he didn't stumble across another vile orgy, but the beast still preferred if he never saw another lizard again. The slender monitor stood beside the river and snorted twice as she gripped her spear. She snarled noisily as two shrews walked towards her.

"Wot is it?" one of them asked.

"Rrr…fox! Get the Mighty One. There'z an intruder lurking in the midzt."

The shrew scoffed. "Yew git 'im. I ain't goin' near that fuckin' monster."

"Hiz name iz Krazzak Ralfur, an' you would be wize t'show him zome rezpect!"

"We'll respect ye monitors as soon as ye wash yore mouths out. Go fetch yer 'Mighty One.' We'll stay 'ere an' scan the perimeter again."

The monitor lizard snorted. "Fine…but ye better watch your own mouth. It'd be a shame to have ta remove that fat tongue of yerz."

Darktail watched as the monitor lizard walked away. The fox blinked and glanced down at the shrews as he looked at his options. He was tempted to go down and ask them for help, but something told him they might attack on sight. The vulpine sighed softly and rubbed his nose. He had to speak to Log-a-Log personally—that was the only way he could get out of this alive.

"I dunno wot we're doin' with these twats t'begin with. Don't see 'ow they're gunna be much 'elp," said one of the shrews.

"Leave it to the Chieftain. He's always cookin' up some plan in that noggin' o' 'is," replied the other shrew.

It wouldn't be hard, nor would it take long. All the vulpine had to do was follow the river until he spotted the giant hut. Darktail crouched down and took out a small knife once he spotted a monitor standing on a branch in the adjacent tree. The fox swore softly and paused. He gripped his knife firmly and waited until the reptile was in the right spot. He watched as the giant lizard turned his head, and then he threw it. The beast gurgled for a moment and grabbed his throat as he toppled backwards and fell in the river. Darktail stood up and broke into a sprint, running along the branch and hopping to another tree as a few shrews and lizards hurried over to the lizard's corpse. He could see the logboats now, all of them resting in the water and tied to the trees or large rocks. Darktail exhaled and started to climb down the tree, digging his claws into the bark as he hurried to the ground. The vulpine hopped off and landed with a soft thud, then stood straight up. He didn't wait; there was no point in turning himself into a target. So Darktail started to run forward. And then froze when he heard a raspy growl.

"Darktail," Rowgat growled.

The fox whipped out his dagger and lashed backwards. Rowgat side-stepped the vulpine and quickly grabbed his wrist. Then the scaly beast squeezed until Darktail gradually opened his mouth to shout. His grip loosened, and the weapon fell from his paw. The fox panted a few times and stared at Rowgat's glowing eyes and menacing smile. He chuckled meekly.

"H-Hey! Sorry 'bout that—you…you startled me!"

"Did I?" Rowgat hissed and looked around. "Where'z Dazz an' Izzlak?"

"I-I was just—I was about to go find your Mighty One an'-an' discuss the, um—this whole…dilemma I've come across!"

"Oh? Were you?"

Darktail nodded. "That's right! So, um, perhaps now, you can let me go—"

Darktail shouted when Rowgat tightened his grip even more. The monitor turned the fox around and started to shove him forward.

"I got a better idea! Let'z go zee the Mighty One together! Then you c'n fully explain where you've been theze pazt few dayz, an' why you came back empty-pawed!"

Darktail started to breathe heavily as the lizard held him by the back of his neck firmly. The fox shut his eyes and swore. He knew his night couldn't get any worse than this.

* * *

Benrath was crouching down beside the river, letting his system void itself of the remains. When the last bit of the semen was out of his rectum, he proceeded to wash himself thoroughly. The lizard stink, the saliva and semen, the scent of his father—he wanted it all gone. The shrew struggled to move his limbs; he'd wince or grit his teeth whenever he strained himself. Sometimes he'd splash water on himself and feel the fluids seeping into all his wounds. Other times his tailhole would widen spontaneously, and the shrew thought he'd end up voiding his bowels a second time. But at worst, all he pushed out was air or small droplets of seed. After the beast cleaned himself up, he found some poultice and rubbed it on a few of his wounds. Then the shrew remained still and stared down into the water, looking at his reflection. All he could see was his father now, not the kind, young beast who wanted to become the leader of the Guosim one day. All the scars and bruises he received, his devotion to the tribe—it was all because his father corrupted him. The shrew slowly closed his eyes and flared his nostrils.

It had to end. All of this. His father, these lizards, Jurlick—every single one of them had to die. It wasn't just for him; if his father kept this up, he'd find another poor, young beast to drag into his web. And considering how petty and vengeful Jurlick was, he needed to perish too. At the rate he was going, he'd end up murdering somebeast else for sneezing in the wrong direction. Benrath opened his eyes and huffed. He reached up and grabbed his headband. And then he untied it and dropped it in the river. No more. No more Guosim, no more Log-a-Log—it all needed to stop. Tonight. Benrath turned around and looked at his clothes and the backpack filled with pine cones. He stood up and walked over to his clothing so he could put them on. After he fastened his belt and smoothed out his tunic, he reached for his backpack.

"Benrath?"

The shrew blinked and turned to his right. He let go of the pack and stared at the shrew with a blue headband on. "Wot is it, Kallin?"

"Jus' heard about wot the Chieftain's plannin'. Workin' with these lizards? Wot the 'ell's…the fuck happened t'ye?"

Benrath looked down at his scars and bruises, and then he rubbed his left eye, which was now blackened. "It's not important."

"I was…was that ye screamin' earlier? Those lizards told me—"

"It is not important," Benrath stated again.

"Wotcha mean it ain't important? Somebeast beat the shit outta ye an' yer just gunna stand there an' not let…it was Jurlick again, weren't it?"

"Kallin, please stop askin' questions." Benrath looked at the brewer's weapon and sniffed. "An' gimme yore spear."

"…Wot?"

"Yore spear. I need it."

Benrath didn't continue. He just waited until the brewer walked over to him and handed him the spear. The shrew gripped it tightly and nodded. Then he walked over and picked up his backpack and slung it over his back.

"Ben, jus' talk t'me. Wot the 'ell happened?!"

"Ask yore Chieftain."

"I'm askin' you!"

Benrath huffed noisily before he turned back around and looked at Kallin. "I opened my eyes, Kallin. That's wot happened. I realized that the Guosim is not the place fer me. It never was. I realized that my 'father' is really jus' a cold-hearted sadist who only cares about hisself. I thought he loved me. I thought he cared about me. But he never did. It's always gotta be about him."

"Did Log-a-Log do sumthin' to ye?"

"He's been doin' it since I were a babe, Kallin. I'm sure he's done it t'others too. He…where's Jurlick?"

Kallin gestured uphill. "Near that big pear tree. Think he's gettin' shit-faced again."

Benrath nodded. "Thank you."

Benrath was about to walk away when the brewer called out his name again. "We're not finished yet! Wot did Log-a-Log do t'ye?!"

"It doesn't matter anymore. Not after tonight. Once I do wot needs to be done, he won't hurt me or anybeast else ever again."

"Hurt y…Ben—"

"Ye always were nice t'me, Kallin. Sometimes…sometimes I wish ye 'ad been me father instead. Oh well…guess it's too late now. I prolly won't see ye again after tonight. But I jus'…"

Benrath shook his head. "Never mind. Goodbye, Kallin. And sorry."

"Sorry—"

Kallin shouted as Benrath whacked him in the head with the spear. He couldn't have anybeast interfering. Not now, not when his mind was finally clear. The shrew looked down at the wounded brewer and heard him groan. He whacked him in the head again just to make sure he stayed unconscious. Then Benrath turned around and walked up the hill, ready to confront Jurlick.

* * *

Darktail grunted when Rowgat shoved him down into a pile of mud. The fox groaned and slowly got to his footpaws, still trying to figure out a way to spin this to his favor. As the vulpine stood, he found himself facing a few other monitors, along with the chubby Shrew Chieftain.

"Heeeeeeeeey, Krassak! It's nice t'see you again!"

Krassak got right to the point. "Where are my lizardz?"

Darktail scratched the back of his head. "Now, now, Krassy! Let's, uh, let's not be rude and ignore this plump beast over here! What's yer name, good sir?"

Log-a-Log responded by belching noisily near Darktail's face. The fox coughed a few times and fanned the gas away before he shook his head.

"All right then, nice t'meet ya, Sir Gasshole! I'm Darktail the Schemer!"

"And I'm goin' t'fuck ye in the arse," growled Log-a-Log.

Darktail's eyes widened. He flicked his eyes back and forth between the two individuals and chuckled quietly. "Well now! Seems like you two are a bit hostile this evening! Perhaps it's better if I leave you alone, let you calm down—"

"Tell 'im where Dazz an' Izzlak are, vermin," Rowgat growled.

"Oh, gee. Y'see, here's the thing, I found the lizards—an' I even rescued them myself! But along the way, we ran into some pirates and…well…y'know how hot-headed them pirates be! So, um, so-so we were headin' back here, and…things happened…"

"They're dead," Krassak concluded.

"Yeah."

There was no point in lying anymore. They had him. The least he could do was admit it instead of dragging his lie out. Darktail was expecting the giant lizard to cut him down right then and there. He thought the monitor would leap on him and bite out his jugular. If anything, he thought Rowgat would yank his trousers down and sodomize him in front of everybeast. Instead, Krassak smiled widely and walked up to the vulpine. Then he planted a scaly paw on his head and rubbed his scalp.

"It'z okay. I know you tried yer bezt. We can't win 'em all, can we?"

"I'm sorry, Mighty Krassak. I wish there was somethin' I could do to make it up to you."

"Oh, you have! Yer gonna be our midnight znack."

Darktail's eyes grew wide. "What?"

Krassak turned and faced two other monitors. "Azloth, Palfin!"

"Yez, Mighty One?" they said in unison.

"Take thiz filth away an' kill 'im. I know you two haven't eaten in a while, zo you can have thiz tazty fox all to yourzelvez!"

Azloth, the young blue monitor with black spots on his body, licked his choppers and stomped towards the frightened fox. "With pleasure, Mighty Krazzak!"

Rowgat shoved Darktail over to Azloth. The fox started panting and struggling as the blue monitor grabbed him from behind and tried to hold his arms down.

"Wait! I—what about our plans?! What about the things I told you?! I can help you!"

Krassak shook his head. "Too late for that. Zir Gazzhole here iz my new ally!"

Darktail snarled. "Yer gunna partner with this fat fuck over me?!"

"This 'fat fuck' is the Chieftain of the mighty Guosim!" Log-a-Log bellowed. "As flatulent and corpulent as I may be, I am far more resourceful than some fox who 'olds less value than the shit-stains on me loincloths an' kilts."

"But I-I c'n be a tracker fer you!"

"I have many trackers in the Guosim already," said Log-a-Log.

"But w-what about—"

"Log-a-Log haz the zoldierz I need, the food I need, the layout of thiz forezt, proper routez to take on thiz river, contactz who could be uzeful in the future—he haz everything I need. All I azked you to do waz deliver two of my lizardz to me, unharmed, and you couldn't even do that. Meanwhile," said Krassak, as he put his arm around Log-a-Log's shoulders, "thiz kind beazt here welcomed me with open armz even after I zlaughtered zome of hiz shrewz. And then he happily decided to work alongzide me an' azzizt me to the bezt of hiz ability, while you had the audazity to inzult my army and try to bargain yer way into my good gracez!"

Log-a-Log shook his head. "As I always say, ye can't ever trust 'em foxes!"

"No, you can't."

Darktail huffed. "Kr…please. I can—"

"Feed my two lizardz, that'z what you can do."

Krassak said no more. He waved the two monitors away, and they started to drag Darktail over to the river. The fox continued to protest and swear at the reptiles, but they didn't listen. All he could do now was accept his fate.

* * *

There he was, sitting there acting like everything was okay. Benrath thought about breaking out into a fit of screaming and cursing, but he saw no point. He knew what he needed to do, and he knew he was better off if he had a clear head. So the shrew walked towards Jurlick, wincing slightly as he forced himself to ignore all the pain. Jurlick laughed to himself before he took his bottle of shrewbeer and consumed a large portion of it. He took the bottle from his mouth and spat some of the fluids into the campfire. Benrath crept behind Jurlick and blinked.

"Hello, Jurlick."

The smug shrew turned around and grinned at Benrath. "Oh. Hey, faggot! Sorry, ain't no lizards here! I'm sure yer father won't mind havin' another go at ye though!"

Benrath raised his spear and impaled Jurlick in his right kneecap. The other shrew yowled and dropped his beer bottle as he looked down at his knee. Then Benrath removed the spear with a meaty squelch and kicked Jurlick in the torso. The beast toppled over the stump he was sitting on and started to groan.

"FUCK! Mother—wot the fuck are ye doin'?!"

Jurlick yowled again when Benrath thrust the tip of the spear into his other kneecap. As Benrath pulled it back out, a stream of blood started to run down Jurlick's left leg.

"WOT?! Ye-ye want me t'apologize?! Kay, I-I'm—I'm sorry! Awright?! I'm fuckin'—it was jus' a joke! It was a fuckin' joke, Ben!"

Benrath blinked. "Okay."

"Okay?! W-wot the fuck ye mean 'okay'?!"

Benrath shrugged. "Okay."

Benrath removed his backpack and set it down on the ground. He flicked his eyes at Jurlick as the shrew tried to stand up. He barely managed to hoist his body back up before he collapsed onto the ground again. The shrew swore twice and reached for the dagger in his waistsash. But Benrath was ahead of him; he rushed over to the shrew and kicked the dagger from his paw before he could use it. Then he casually picked up the weapon and put it in his own belt. Jurlick panted twice and began to crawl backwards.

"S-so—so wot?! Ye…ye gonna kill me? Huh? That it?! Ye gonna fuckin' kill me over a stupid fuckin' prank?!"

He could argue with Jurlick, tell him that what he did was anything but a prank. He could toy with him, scream at him, lash out at him as he called him every single insult in his vocabulary. But he saw no point in doing so.

"Yes."

"Okay, hold up. I'm…I'm sorry, Ben. I-I mean it! I got carried away—I-I was wrong! I…I shouldn't have done that."

"Oh. Really?"

"Yeah. I shoulda stuffed a gag in yore fuckin' mouth so I wouldn't hear your pathetic whinin'!"

Benrath blinked. He bent over and emptied his backpack. Jurlick huffed as he looked at all the cones lying on the ground.

"The fuck's that?"

"Pine cones."

"I-I know that, faggot! Wotcha gonna do: make me choke on 'em?"

Benrath walked over to Jurlick and kicked him in the mouth. As Jurlick lied on the ground moaning and holding his maw, Benrath bent down and flipped him over so he was lying on his stomach. Benrath stood behind Jurlick, crouched down, and grabbed his kilt and loincloth.

"Wot the FUCK?! STOP!"

Benrath yanked his trousers down, exposing the beast's rump. Jurlick started to whimper and clawed at the ground, but Benrath planted his right footpaw on his back and pinned him in place.

"I'M SORRY! Okay, I-I mean it—I mean it this time! I'm sorry! Please don't—"

"I'm not gunna rape you, Jurlick. I'm not like ye. I'm not like the Chieftain."

"Th-then—then pull me fuckin' kilt up! Let me go—let me go! PLEASE!"

Benrath was about to say something else when he heard a tiny sob. The shrew waited, and the sob gradually turned into whimpering and sniffling. When Jurlick turned and looked up over his shoulder, his teeth were grit and his cheeks were wet with tears.

"Is this wot ye want? Huh? Ye-ye fuckin' hap-happy now, faggot?! This wot ye wanted t'see?!"

Benrath didn't answer. He blinked and continued to stare at Jurlick as the beast sobbed again and began to shake. He shook his head and sniffled.

"I dun wanna die, Ben…please. I'm sorry, Ben! How many times I gotta say it?!"

"Until you mean it."

"I DO MEAN IT!"

Benrath shook his head. "No. You don't."

"FINE! FUCK IT THEN! GE-GET IT O'ER WITH! Go-go…go on, faggot! Kill me since that's wot ye want!"

"Wot I want…hmph. To tell ye the truth, I'm not sure wot I want anymore. But I know I don't want revenge."

"Yes, ye do! Otherwise ye wouldn't be-be doin' this!"

"In order fer me to have revenge on ye, I'd have to get those lizards t'fuck you back to back in one session. In order t'get revenge on the Chieftain, I would have ta rape 'im several times over the span of nearly eighteen seasons. I'd…I'd have to make him suck me cock when he's only two seasons an' he don't know any better. I'd have to flog 'im fer pissin' in his cot, fer not doin' wot I say, fer not catchin' enough fish, fer not… I would have to torture him for over ten seasons. That's how long he…"

Benrath closed his eyes. He paused and listened to Jurlick whimpering and crying. The shrew sucked on his teeth and shook his head. "It don't matter. Wot's done is done. An' now you an' my 'father' are going to answer fer wot ye both did t'me."

Benrath walked over and picked up one of the pine cones. Then he walked back over to the wounded shrew and roughly shoved the bitter cone inside his mouth to muffle his voice. As the shrew gagged and mumbled, Benrath acquired another cone and tossed it in his paw.

"Ye'd always throw these at me. I thought rocks or stones, even yer own shit would suffice. But now I see why. They're very large and prickly…"

Benrath turned and stared at Jurlick's exposed hole. "And hard."

Jurlick mumbled something as he drooled, but Benrath couldn't make out what he said. Ben crouched down near Jurlick's anus and rubbed his nose.

"I wasn't lying when I said I wouldn't rape ye. But before I kill you, yer gonna know wot that feels like. Yer gonna understand the pain that I went through tonight, the pain I've had to deal with fer over ten seasons. And I assure you, no matter how much it hurts, no matter how much ye scream, no matter how much ye bleed…it will _never_ compare to wot Log-a-Log did to me."

Jurlick muttered something again, but Benrath didn't listen. He took the pine cone in his paw, placed it against Jurlick's anus, and started to shove it inside. The beast's screams were muffled, but his voice was still vociferous enough for somebeast nearby to hear. Benrath didn't care. He kept stuffing the pine cone inside, listening as the prickly object scraped against Jurlick's rectum and cracked a few times. Benrath grunted a few times as the cone got stuck, but he managed to cram the cone inside after pushing it forward with both paws. The entire time, Jurlick was wailing pathetically and trying to jerk his body around to escape. But his damaged kneecaps rendered his legs inoperable; all he could do was crawl. And whenever Jurlick tried to move away, Benrath would either kick him or pin him down again. Once the first cone was inside, Benrath picked up a second, much thicker cone from the ground. He crouched down and repeated the gesture, shoving it inside Jurlick's sensitive hole. He watched as the hole dilated so it could take the giant cone in. Jurlick spat out the cone in his mouth and began to wail in a clearer voice. Benrath walked over to his mouth and shoved the cone back inside to shut him up again.

"Don't worry, Jurlick. I'll stop after the twelfth cone."

Jurlick lied on the ground and continued to sob. Benrath stoically crouched back down and kept inserting the cone inside his rectum.

* * *

He wasn't done yet. Not here. Not now. He still had a chance to get away—he just had to take it. There was no way he could die now—not like this. Darktail continued to whimper and pant as the lizards hauled him over to the river to execute him. And the entire time, Darktail was trying to bargain his way to freedom.

"Pl-please, please—c'mon now! I-I can—"

"Shurrup, vermin!" snarled Palfin.

Darktail grunted when the monitor shoved him down against the bank of the river. The vulpine swiftly turned around and got on his knees, looking up at the monitors with hopeful eyes.

"Spare me! Please! I'll do anything ye a-ask! I beg of you!"

Azloth and Palfin flicked their eyes at each other. The latter monitor hissed and rotated his index finger. "Turn 'round. Pull 'em trousers down."

Darktail blinked and shook his head. "N-no. No, n-not—not that! I'll-I'll do anything _but_ that!"

"Fine. Open yer mouf, zuck m'cockz."

Darktail huffed and rolled his eyes. "I'll do anything that _doesn't_ involve you two fuckin' me!"

"Hmm…zlice off yer own flesh an' feed it to uz!" growled Azloth.

"Oh, yez, YEZ! Wanna tazte dat fox flesh!" Palfin added.

"Oh fer fuck's sake," Darktail murmured.

"Wot waz that?!"

Darktail leaped forward, sobbing and sniffling as he latched his arms around Palfin's legs. "PLEASE! I'm-I'm sorry—I dun wanna die! Have mercy! Please…I-I can't die like this…"

Palfin looked down at the crying fox as he continued to weep and tremble. The lizards looked at each other again before Palfin grinned widely. "Zince ye down dere, lick m'cloaca! Gerrit all nice 'n' clean!"

Darktail listened to the two monitors as they laughed and sneered at him. They clearly weren't paying enough attention or they would've seen him move his paw to the side so he could take out another one of his knives. Darktail opened his eyes and snarled as he shoved the knife upwards and stabbed Palfin in his cloaca. The lizard howled shrilly as blood started to drip from the orifice. The fox swiftly removed the knife, got to his footpaws, and gunned for Azloth. The other monitor reacted just as fast and threw his spear at Darktail, just as the fox used Palfin for a shield. The fox shouted as he dove out the way, while the spear went straight through Palfin's torso. The fox immediately got back up as Azloth took out his cutlass. He snarled viciously as he swung his weapon at the fox, slowly becoming more agitated because he couldn't hit him. The swift fox ducked and weaved, panting as he looked around for something else to use as a weapon.

"HOLD ZTILL!" Azloth hissed.

Darktail side-stepped the lizard when Azloth swung his cutlass vertically. He ducked when he swung it horizontally twice. He backed away when the monitor tried to impale him with the long weapon. Furious and losing his patience, Azloth tossed his cutlass at Darktail's head. The fox ducked as the cutlass smacked against a tree, and then screamed when Azloth tackled him to the ground. Darktail grunted and swore as Azloth snarled and drooled all over his face. The fox gritted his teeth when the lizard dug his claws into his face and began to scratch hard enough to draw blood. Darktail stared at the reptile's nasty maw and shoved his mouth away with one paw. He used his other one to bring his knife up to the reptile's throat. Azloth gurgled as the blade punctured his flesh. He stopped clawing at Darktail's face and felt fluids dripping from his neck. The lizard coughed and groaned softly as he slouched over and collapsed into the soil. The vulpine panted heavily and wiped the slobber off his face before he rolled over and proceeded to stab Azloth in the neck six more times, squirting blood all over his face. Then the fox stood up, ran over to Palfin's body, and sliced his neck open.

Darktail wasn't taking any chances—even he knew some beasts were capable of surviving seemingly mortal injuries. After the fox disposed of the two lizards, he put his knife away and retrieved Azloth's cutlass. Then the fox grabbed the spear and grunted as he wrenched it out of Palfin's torso with a soft squish. Darktail looked up ahead where Krassak and the Guosim were. Then he turned tail and ran. Time for plan C…or D, thought Darktail. Whichever fuckin' one it is.

* * *

Benrath stared at Jurlick as he moaned softly. He had cried so much that the shrew didn't have any more tears left in him. Ben walked over to Jurlick's behind and stared at his ravaged anus. There was blood mixed in with fecal matter laying on the ground in-between his thighs. At some point, Benrath shoved so many pine cones up Jurlick's rectum that he pushed some of them back out, and ended up defecating in the process. Even now there was still blood and small bits of air leaking out of Jurlick's soiled anus. Benrath looked at the mess Jurlick made before he waltzed over and picked up the spear. He twirled it a few times and held it in front of Jurlick's face.

"No…no more," Jurlick said weakly. "Stop…"

Benrath crouched down and tapped Jurlick on his muzzle. "Those pine cones were only a warm-up. Wanted to stretch ye out, y'see. I'm sure now it'll be much easier stickin' this into ye."

Jurlick looked at the long spear with a metal tip and shuddered. "HELP! SOMEBEAST—"

Benrath took one of the pine cones and shoved it so far into Jurlick's mouth that it was caught in his throat. Jurlick let out several choking noises while Benrath walked behind Jurlick and pointed the spear at his anus. He crouched down and lined up the tip with his rectum closely, making sure the angle was just right. And then he jammed the spear inside with an audible squish. Benrath thought Jurlick was too exhausted to scream, but he was wrong. Even with the pine cone in his mouth, Jurlick still managed to holler and cry, his eyes growing wide as the weapon was crammed inside his tailhole. Benrath kept jamming the spear further inside, observing more blood and some feces leaking out. The spear started to rupture Jurlick's intestinal lining and punctured various parts of his colon. Benrath stopped when the spear was half-way in and stood up. He heard leaves and twigs snapping in the background, but paid no attention to it. Jurlick's screams were waning now—he knew the shrew was on the verge of dying from shock soon. Breathing heavily, Benrath held the spear and snapped it in half as he struck it with his footpaw. The beast carried the piece of wood over to Jurlick's head.

He looked down at the beast for a moment. Jurlick looked up at Benrath, hoping the shrew would change his mind at the last second and show mercy. But Benrath's form of "mercy" was to drive the jagged end of the hard wood into Jurlick's right eye. He thought about letting Jurlick bleed out, or even letting the shock get to him. But Ben saw no point in dragging this out any longer. After he inserted the wood into Jurlick's eye, the shrew's body twitched a few times and gradually went still. Benrath took several deep breaths as he heard stomping and branches moving behind him. His eyes widened. The shrew slowly turned around and stared at an adolescent rat and chubby watervole.

"Wot the _fuck_?!" shouted Teg.

Benrath suddenly felt emasculated, as if somebeast just caught him masturbating in public. He didn't know what to say to the beasts; there was no way he could lie about committing the murder, let alone the graphic position said body was in. He stammered and blinked, while Tegast and Grustur took out their weapons.

"Wait—"

"Get out of our fuckin' way," growled Grustur. "I don't…the fuck happened 'ere?!"

Benrath raised his paws. "Th-this doesn't involve ye. It…I won't harm you, kay? This was jus' 'tween me an' 'im, that's all."

"I take it yer Chieftain knows nothin' 'bout this?"

"The Chieftain don't care 'bout nobeast but hisself. He's gunna ruin the Guosim at the rate he's goin'."

"Wot are you talkin' about?" asked Tegast.

"He's workin' with monitor lizards now. Cannibalistic monitor lizards who—"

"Are you shitting me?! Those are the same fuckin' lizards we've been runnin' from!"

Benrath snorted. "Yer better off turnin' back around and gettin' as far 'way from 'ere as possible. The—"

"Oi, Ben! Get yer arse o'er 'ere! Something went wrong…"

Benrath gasped. He turned around and spotted a shrew with a gray headband walking towards him. The shrew walked up to Benrath and froze when she saw Jurlick's body. The shrew panted a few times and gazed at Benrath.

"L-let me—"

"Yew fuckin' traitor," she growled.

The shrew grabbed her rapier's hilt. Benrath sprinted towards her and grabbed her paws before she removed the weapon from its sheath. Both shrews began to tussle with each other as Benrath tried to keep the rapier down.

"No, no, no, no—WAIT! Let—"

"GET OFF!"

"Let—LET ME EXPLAIN!"

Benrath heard a crunching squelch, followed by the shrew gasping. He quickly backed away and whimpered when he looked down and saw that somebeast impaled the shrew with a spear. Ben looked back up as the other shrew started to cough up blood. Then she groaned and collapsed to the ground. Tegast and Grustur rushed towards Benrath just as the killer revealed himself.

"Fuckin' shrews," Darktail murmured.

The fox walked over to the shrew's corpse and removed the spear, just in time to spot the other three beasts and the ravaged cadaver in the distance. He looked at Jurlick's body, then at the trio, then back at Jurlick's body. Darktail scowled slowly and blinked.

"Erm…I'll come back," he said meekly.

Grustur grabbed the fox and dragged him towards him before he could run. He held his dagger up to his throat and snarled.

"You jus' murdered that shrew!"

"Yeah, well, _you_ just murdered _that_ shrew over there!"

Benrath blinked. "Actually, I did that."

"I don't give a shit who did it! All three of you are in on it; we're all in the same fuckin' boat now!"

Tegast blinked and cocked his head sideways. He walked towards Darktail and sniffed twice. "It can't…you son of a bitch."

"Technically, I'm a son of a vixen, but thanks," Darktail quipped.

Tegast drew his dagger at the fox now. "I fuckin' told you! I told you if I ever saw you again, I'd fuckin' kill you!"

Darktail raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Teg, you know this fox?" Grus asked.

"He an' this other fox tried to steal all my stuff! Then yer li'l friend tried to force himself on me!"

"I-I don't know what—"

"DON'T! I know you fuckin' remember who I am! Back in the swamp? Uh, um—Mark-somethin' or wotever! That fox tried to fuckin' rape me an' you let it happen!"

Grustur snarled. "You tried to rape Teg?"

"NO! No—fucking—that's not what happened! Markwin had a problem, okay?! But he's dead now; it don't matter no more! I've been on my own fer over a week now!"

"There's two dead shrews o'er here. We can kill each other _later_ ," Benrath growled.

Grustur turned and glared at Ben. "Don't think we're yer buddies now. Yer the reason why one of them bodies is there to begin with!"

"Look, I-I dunno wot happened with that beast with a stick up his arse, but we gotta go right now 'afore them lizards find me!" shouted Darktail.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't scalp you right now!" Tegast barked.

"'Cos I know about the tunnels 'round here! I know a lot 'bout Mossflower, the paths we c'n take to avoid the Guosim—everything!"

"I know a lot 'bout this forest too," Grustur interrupted. "What we need you for?"

"Backup? What happens if you end in in Hellgates? Who's gonna take care—"

The four beasts heard shouting and footsteps in the distance. The moment they turned to look, an arrow found its way near Tegast's leg. The young rat shouted, moments before they spotted a few dark figures coming towards them in the distance.

"Gah, jus' shut up an' get all the weapons! I'll show you where the tunnels are!"

They didn't have time to explain what happened—not with both bodies right there, and not with two other dead lizards near the river. The four creatures retrieved all of the dead shrews' weapons and ran in the other direction, with Darktail leading the way.

* * *

Kallin winced as the medic applied alcohol and poultice on his head. He and several other members of the Guosim were standing alongside a few reptiles, appalled at the news they heard. The shrew brewer gestured for the medic to stop dabbing his head with the soaked cloth and he walked over to the angry Chieftain.

"So wot's our plan now, Chief?"

Log-a-Log snorted and folded his arms. He flicked his eyes at the two dead shrews before looking up at a short shrew with a green and yellow spotted headband.

"Are you absolutely _sure_ of wot ye saw, Mirnsak?"

Mirnsak nodded. "Big shrew, looked a bit like you, sah. Saw three other beasts with him run off that way. I come o'er here with some o' Krassak's lizards, find Jurlick an' Ginny dead."

"Hmph. I see."

"It…maybe it wasn't Benrath," the medic added. "Coulda been another—"

"It was Ben," Kallin stated. "That's how I got this lump on me 'ead. I talked to him not long ago. He sounded…off. He wouldn't tell me wot was wrong. Next thing I know, he's whackin' me in the skull with me own spear."

"But that don't mean Ben murdered Jurlick! Or Ginny, for that matter!"

Kallin scoffed. "Look at 'im! He's got a spear shoved up his arse! Who else would be that melodramatic about killin' 'im? Jurlick's been the bane o' Benrath's existence fer several seasons now. Maybe he finally snapped an' just killed 'im."

"So wot 'appened with Ginny?"

Kallin shook his head. "Jurlick I can unnerstand, but her? That mighta been somebeast else. She got hit in the back from a spear it looks like. And seein' as how the spear Ben used to murder Jurlick with is still up his hole…"

Log-a-Log scoffed. "Ben's a traitor, pure an' simple! He killed Jurlick out o' petty revenge! Ginny saw, so he killed her too to cover his tracks! Then the coward ran the second Mirnsak sighted 'im."

"That doesn't explain all the beasts he was with though," said Mirnsak.

Gila the Putrid stepped near the shrews and chuckled. "We lozt a few lizardz earlier tonight. Talked t'Luggrar 'bout it, an' ye wanna know wot he said?"

Krassak hissed. "What?"

"He told me zome o' hiz lizardz zpotted two beaztz together: a ztinky rat an' zome watervole."

"The zame two we keep running into?"

Gila nodded. "Zoundz like it."

Krassak snorted. "On top of that, we found Azloth an' Palfin'z bodiez too. That fox muzt've killed 'em and ezcaped."

"So, this fox slews two o' yer lizards, runs away, my son kills two o' me shrews, runs off, an' this all happens 'round the same time ye reptiles run into an ol' foe of yores?"

"Yeah, I don't believe in coincidencez either. Gila, you an' Rowgat get all the lizardz together! Zend zome unitz out t'go find 'em!"

Gila nodded. "On it, Mighty One!"

The shrews watched as the plump, odd-colored reptile walked away whilst Kallin turned and faced Log-a-Log. "Wot about Benrath, sah?"

"Kill 'im."

All the shrews' eyes grew wide. "WOT!"

"But—he's yore son, Chief!"

Log-a-Log scoffed. "He's a traitor. He murdered two o' his own, then ran away instead o' facin' the consequences. For that, he must die."

"That—" Kallin rubbed his forehead. "Yore not even gunna give 'im a proper trial? Shouldn't we at least hear his side o' the story? Doesn't yer son—"

"He's not me son anymore!" Log-a-Log exclaimed. "He's a traitor, nothing more, nothing less! Ye see 'im, ye kill 'im! Alla ye tell everybeast in the Guosim that Benrath Brugo is a turncoat who killed his own! Ye unnerstand?!"

The medic and Mirnsak blinked and flicked their eyes at each other. "Sah, I-I don't—"

"Do ye unnerstand or not?!"

Mirnsak shut his eyes and sighed. "Ye—"

"No," Kallin interrupted.

Log-a-Log raised an eyebrow and put his paws on his hips. " _No_?"

"Before Ben assaulted me, sumthin' happened to him. Sumthin' he told me to ask ye about."

Kallin walked up to Log-a-Log until his muzzle was only a few inches from the Chieftain's nose. "Care to explain?"

"Now is not the time—"

"Now's the perfect time. I dunno wot happened, but that beast was traumatized. I never saw him like that before. He told me t'ask _you_ wot happened. So wot happened?"

Log-a-Log paused. He stared at Kallin for a moment, wondering if the brewer would finally back down and buy into his lies. Then he grinned very slowly, and the Chieftain took two steps towards the shrew so their muzzles were mere centimeters away.

"D'ye really wanna do this now?"

His breath was hot, but his voice was chilling, more menacing than a snake's raspy hiss. Kallin flared his nostrils and started to move his paw towards the knife in his waistsash.

"Hmm? D'ye… _really_ want to open this can o' worms, Kallin?"

The brewer's fingers grabbed his knife's handle. The medic and Mirnsak walked closer to the shrews, only for Krassak, of all beasts, to separate them.

"Who givez a fuck who did what! The beaztz we wanna kill are ztill out there! You wanna catch 'em, or you wanna ztand here with our thumbz up our arzez?"

Log-a-Log backed away and giggled. "He's right, Kallin! Wotever happened, happened! Nuthin' we c'n do 'bout it now. So let's put all this frivolous matter aside an' catch us a traitor, shall we?"

Krassak and Log-a-Log started to walk away. But before Log-a-Log gained enough distance, Kallin grabbed his arm tightly and jerked him around.

"We're not done here."

The portly shrew grinned. "No. We're not."

Log-a-Log wrenched his arm free of Kallin's grasp and resumed walking away with the monitor. The medic and Mirnsak, however, were just as suspicious of their Chieftain as Kallin.

"Where's Barlo?"

"I dunno," Kallin said grimly.

The medic sighed and rubbed her chin. "Mkay, so-so we've known these lizards, wot? One night? And ever since Log-a-Log told us to 'mingle' with 'em, Jurlick died, Ginny died, Barlo and Lugo are missin', an' now Log-a-Log wants to murder his own son even though nobeast even saw him kill either shrew. I got that right?"

Kallin nodded. "That's basically it."

The medic scoffed and shook her head. "Fuck's sake. …Wot the fuck's Log-a-Log gotten us into?"

"I dunno, Vikken," said Kallin as he lowered his head and rubbed his eyes.

"I don't know."

* * *

"C'mon, light it up. Hurry!" barked Darktail.

The young rat ran the flint against the dagger several times, causing sparks to fly out and land on top of the makeshift torch composed of a large stick and kindling tied to the tip of the wood with a rag. Darktail blew on the torch as tiny flames began to emerge. The other three beasts stood back as Darktail picked up the torch with a fire gradually growing on top of it. The fox gestured for them to follow him, and the beasts all found themselves standing in a grove filled with several large rocks. Benrath leaned against one of the rocks so he could catch his breath while Darktail mumbled to himself as he sniffed the air and looked beneath some of the rocks.

"Should be…c'mon, where's the bloody thing…"

Darktail grunted as he threw his body against a rock and flipped it over. Nothing. He swore to himself as he looked left and right, the wind blowing against his face and rustling all the bushes and tree branches around him. He headed over to one of the rocks towards the edge of the grove near a broken cart and grunted as he pressed his back against the large rock. After a few seconds of straining his back, the rock slowly slid and revealed a trap door concealed by all the dirt. Darktail exhaled with relief as he found the door and pulled it open.

"Found it! Jus' follow me; this should lead to one of them caves. We can rest there fer a bit."

Tegast and Grustur nodded and followed the fox with post haste, while Benrath found himself limping a bit as he struggled to stay with the group. He shut the door after entering the tunnel last and soon found himself standing on an incline. Benrath and the other beasts kept their balance as they walked down the dirt-enriched slope with only Darktail's torch as a source of light. The fox appeared at a small hole in the tunnel and jumped down, landing with a soft squelch. He waved a paw at the other beasts and they followed him down below.

"Interesting. Don't think I've come across these tunnels before," said Grustur.

"Prob'ly 'cos they flood so damn much when it rains," Darktail added. "No wonder them moles stopped usin' 'em."

"So…we are safe down 'ere, right?" asked Ben.

"Relax. Even if they find that door back there, these tunnels go all over the place. We'll be long gone 'afore they figure out which path we took. …Think we c'n rest up in here."

Darktail arrived at a large, spacious section of the tunnel big enough for a badger to sleep in. All the beasts jumped off a small ledge and landed on the ground with a wet squelch. Tegast grimaced after stepping in all the mud while Darktail headed towards one of the metal fixtures embedded into the wall and set the torch inside of it. The fox let go of the torch and breathed heavily as he sat down on the floor. The other three beasts did the same and began to catch their breath. Everybeast's hearts began to slow down and they stopped sweating as much as before. Tegast looked around the spacious area and scrunched up his face when a muggy odor filled his nostrils.

"Not as homey as the tunnel you took me to, Grus," he remarked.

"Don't complain ya li'l twat. Moles built these tunnels fer hidin' from vermin an' transporting supplies, not fer livin'. It's better'n nothin'," sneered Darktail.

The rat scowled at Darktail, but ignored him nonetheless. He turned and faced Benrath instead as the shrew ran a few fingers down a scar on his face.

"So you wanna tell us _why_ you killed that shrew back there?"

Ben shook his head. "It's irrelevant."

"Uh, you shoved a spear up his butthole. Pretty damn sure that's sayin' something," Darktail noted.

"He's dead. And I'd rather not talk about it…"

"Well, how do we know you won't slew us too? You got some issues up in yer brain, shrew? You get off t'shoving big ol' sticks up other beasts arses?"

Benrath huffed. "Fine. My name's Benrath Brugo. I'm the so…I _was_ Log-a-Log's pet. His li'l plaything; his tool that he—"

"Nobeast cares 'bout yer fuckin' life story. Jus' get on with it."

Benrath flicked his eyes at Darktail and snorted. "That beast I killed lured me into a trap. By the time I figured out wot was happenin', it was too late. He stood there an' watched as several of those monitor lizards raped me—and all 'cos he held a grudge against me."

Grustur could only stare at Ben while Tegast lowered his ears and frowned. The former stammered for a brief moment while the latter slowly looked away.

"You're shitting me," said Grus deeply.

Benrath shook his head. "I, uh…well, you saw his corpse. If I told you that wot he did angered me, that'd be a _severe_ understatement. But he's gone now. Log-a-Log isn't though."

"What did he do?"

"He killed me parents an' spent the last several seasons rapin' me. Made me think I were his real son…made me think he actually cared 'bout me."

"Fuck…"

Tegast shut his eyes and lowered his head. He didn't know what to say now, especially after treating him so hostilely not so long ago. He exhaled, almost whimpering as he tried to imagine how horrible his life must've been growing up. Darktail looked at the two shocked beasts and snorted.

"Oh yeah, my life's all kittens 'n' rainbows too. Yep. Grew up on a happy farm, ate lotsa food, had a successful life. …Yep. Totally didn't go through any rough shit growin' up."

Darktail turned and faced Ben. "Lemme ask you somethin': if Log-a-Log was rapin' you all these years, why the fuck didn't you say somethin'? Why didn't you ask fer help?"

"'Cos if you beat a slave enough times, eventually he or she will think that's just a common thing that's _s'posed_ to happen," Grustur said.

Benrath shrugged. "Don't matter why. I can't change wot happened now."

Tegast sniffed noisily and finally looked up at Benrath, his eyes watering. "I'm sorry…"

Benrath raised an eyebrow. "You didn't fuck me in the arse when I were tryin' t'sleep at night. Ye dun even know me—wot're you cryin' about?"

"I just…" Tegast sniffled again and wiped away a tear as it ran down his left cheek. He let out a soft chuckle. "An' here I thought I was the one with a shitty life…"

The shrew lowered his eyebrow and shrugged again. "Like I said, can't change the past."

"That's wonderful," Darktail butted in. "Now that we've shared all of our enchanting lives as babes, can we discuss wot the fuck we're gonna do now?"

"We find a boat. Build one maybe. Then we all head out towards Isle Glinsun," said Grustur.

"I thought that was our last resort?" asked Tegast.

"This _is_ our fuckin' last resort, pup! I thought the Guosim would help us, an' look at what happened! Now we got the lizards _and_ these shrews chasin' us! This shit can't get any worse! We have to leave Mossflower, an' we gotta do it now."

Darktail pointed at Grus. "I agree with the vole here."

"I'm not leavin' 'til Log-a-Log is dead," said Benrath. "We… _I_ can't let him live any longer. I can't run away knowin' he's out there ruinin' everybeast else's lives."

"Good! You stay—the three of us will catch a boat outta here," said Darktail.

"…I'm not leavin' either," said Teg.

Darktail frowned, while Grustur smacked his paw against his forehead. "Pup, yer whole family's dead. You were almost raped. You were almost killed. The only reason why yer not dead is 'cos of me fer fuck's sake! What more proof do you need that we need to pack up an' leave this fuckin' forest?!"

Tegast stared at Grustur's scowl before he looked at Darktail as the fox folded his arms. Then he looked at Benrath's solemn face and blinked. The rat scoffed and stood up.

"Is that wot you wanna do? Run here, run there, hide here, hide there, repeat the same bullshit over and over and fucking over again? You wanna know wot's gonna happen? We're gonna die from exhaustion 'cos we spent all our fuckin' lives runnin'!"

Grustur sighed. "Pup—"

"Shut up, Grus! We heard that beast getting raped down there an' we did _nothing_ about it! We knew those lizards were gonna attack that farm an' we did _nothing at all_! That's why this forest—this world—is the way that it is right now! 'Cos beasts like us see trouble, and instead of trying to fix the problem or lendin' a paw, we jus' pack up our shit and go somewhere else!"

"And we're still alive 'cos of that!"

"Wot do we have, Grus?! My whole fuckin' tribe was killed fer no fuckin' reason! This shrew's own parents were murdered and he was raised by some sadist who forced himself upon him night after night! Wot the fuck did any of us do t'deserve this, to end up where we are now?!"

"Well, I did murder a few—"

Tegast interrupted Darktail. "Okay, wot did beasts like me an' Ben—and you as well, Grus, assuming you didn't do any heinous shit in the past—do to end up here?! Nothing. And that's exactly the problem: we didn't do anything! Beasts like us had a chance to make this world better, but we chose not to. We chose to say, 'Fuck it. Let's go here away from the chaos and let some other beast deal with it.' …I am tired. I've spent my whole life running, moving from place to place. And in the end, all I got to show for it is a dead family. And now I'm stuck down here with three strangers I barely know. We can't keep running anymore. We have to fix this so other goodbeasts out there won't have to suffer the way we did! If we leave knowin' beasts like Log-a-Log and this monitor lizard are still alive, they're gonna burn this whole world to the ground. An' if that happens, it won't matter where we run or hide. Redwall, Isle Glinsun—they'll find us anyway, and we'll perish 'cos we exerted all of our energy from running."

Everybeast in the cave went silent. The only noises they heard were some of the dirt falling from the ceiling and everybeast breathing softly. Tegast sat back down and exhaled moments before Darktail opened his mouth.

"Wow. That was such an inspirational speech, pup. Really. That-that really moved me…it did."

"Is that so?"

"Of course not, you fuckin' twat! Yer a fuckin' idiot if you think we're gonna change anything by stayin' here!"

Grustur turned and faced Tegast. "He's right. You're not thinkin' straight."

"Yes, I am! I know—"

"Think _very clearly_ for a minute, Tegast. We're four beasts goin' up against _two_ armies now, not just one. We won't last five minutes if we fight them straight on."

"So we ask for help. We find other beasts who know how to fight who can help us! As soon as we tell 'em wot danger they're in, they'll pick up their swords, bows, wotever an' help us fight back!"

"Do you really believe that'll work?"

"Yes," said Tegast firmly.

Grustur shook his head and turned away. "And here I thought you _wanted_ to go to Isle Glinsun."

"That was before. Things changed, Grus."

Darktail rubbed his muzzle. "Right. Well, you two c'n stay an' get killed. I'm off to go find—"

"Sit yore arse down," Tegast growled.

"Or what? You gonna swear at me some more?"

"Yer not gonna leave. You have no friends, nobeast t'help you. Yore all alone and outnumbered. With us, yer chances of survival are much better. And yore gonna be amenable the entire time; yore not stupid enough to get us killed out of spite. If you were, you woulda died seasons ago. You _need_ us. More importantly, you need us a helluva lot more than we need _you_."

Tegast looked at Grustur. "Yer not gonna leave either. I know you want to. You prob'ly pondered it. But yer still here. You saved me that night from the lizards. Yore still travelin' with me, hopin' I find someplace safe. You care about me a lot more than you want to admit. Even if you did leave, you'd come runnin' back, 'cos you don't want somethin' bad to happen to me that you know you might've been able to prevent. If I died 'cos you left me to the wolves, _it'd eat you up inside_. And you know it."

Tegast looked at Darktail and Grustur as they both scowled at him. The young rat folded his arms and sniffed. "So, we're all stayin'. Fuckin' deal with it."

There was another brief awkward silence that was once again broken by Darktail's mouth. "So…this group is a nomadic vole, a disgraced fox soldier, some headstrong pup who doesn't understand the concept of reality, and a tubby shrew with some serious daddy issues who won't die until he sends his father to the Hellgates."

"Pretty much. Yeah," stated Benrath.

The fox nodded. "I give us 'til the summer. Fall if we're lucky. We'll be dead by then."

Nobeast said anything afterwards. They all sat in silence and pondered, wondering if they would live long enough to see next spring.


	9. Strong and Independent

**XXXIII**

 **Strong and Independent**

 **A/N: There goes that mysterious guest again. :p Yes, Jurlick's death was anti-climactic. That was intentional though. Sure, Jurlick did plan his revenge against Benrath pretty thoroughly, but that's all he was good at: plotting. At no point is it hinted that Jurlick is capable of holding his own in a fight (that was made clear in chapter 16). Even if there was an "epic" duel between Jurlick and Benrath, it wouldn't have lasted long anyway. And while Jurlick was indeed a prick to Benrath, he wasn't the one who had been torturing him his entire life. The award for that goes to Log-a-Log. I killed off Jurlick so soon so Ben could focus more on the real enemy: his adoptive father. And frankly, if I hadn't killed off Jurlick in the last chapter, I seriously doubt he would've contributed much to the story in terms of plot or character development. He would've been "that one asshole in the background who needs to die."**

 **In all fairness though, the** _ **Redwall**_ **series has** _ **a lot**_ **of anti-climax situations and fights in it. I'm looking at** _ **you**_ **, Slagar the Cruel. And Gruven. And Princess Kurda. And Gabool the Wild. And Vilu Daskar. And… Pick any main villain who isn't Cluny the Scourge, Tsarmina, Gulo the Savage, Zwilt the Shade, or Ungatt Trunn, and chances are, that villain went down** _ **very**_ **abruptly. But that's kinda the point. Beasts like Swartt Sixclaw, despite being the main villain in** _ **Outcast of Redwall**_ **, are really just cowards who only got where they were because they plotted, fought dirty, and had their much more competent lieutenants fighting their battles for them. So it really shouldn't be** _ **that**_ **much of a surprise when the epic battle between the main hero…isn't.**

 **But no worries. The confrontation with Log-a-Log (which I'm hoping will occur before Book III) will be more rewarding. ;)**

* * *

She was trying not to antagonize the other beast. She couldn't flick her eyes at him suspiciously or chew with her mouth open. Part of her didn't want to chew at all; she knew the food in her mouth could fly right out with a quick jab to her face. So she sat still and ate her dinner as she listened to the hare across from her grumble. He suddenly slammed a fist on the table and swore. The hare lowered her bread and cheese and huffed.

"Wot's wrong now?"

The other hare rubbed his chin for a moment. Then he glared at the female hare and blinked. "Saw the Dougleys' garden t'day. They showed me 'round all the vegetables an' some fruit they got growin'. Those otters got enough vittles o'er there to feed a camp, yet here we are, eatin' the same fuckin' cheese an' the same fuckin' bread every night."

The female hare closed her eyes. "Don't start with me. I'm not in the mood…"

"Don't start wot, Lill?"

"This. Every night you gotta complain about _somethin_ '. You whine and you bitch, yet you don't ever try to get shit done."

The male hare flared his nostrils. "Don't get shit done? I'm the one who-who busts his arse—"

"Oh sure, yeah. You leave home and yer gone all day, then you and your pals come back empty-pawed and stinkin' of wine or grog. Meanwhile, I'm the beast tryin' to make a decent home. I'm the beast who has t'go out and hunt and fish. The fuck do you do all day?"

The hare scoffed. "I don't gotta answer to you, female. You're not—"

"Wot, yer slave?" The female hare laughed. "You're right. I'm not your slave. I'm not s-some beast you wrap a collar around. I'm not some servant who bows in your presence and-and does all the shit you tell me to do. I'm your fiancée, Cholly!"

Cholly looked at the hare across from him and blinked. "That's right, Lillen. You are my fiancée."

Cholly grabbed an empty glass from the table and tossed it at the wall. Lillen flicked her eyes at the broken glass just when Cholly stood up. Before the hare had time to ask Cholly what he was doing, he grabbed the underside of the table and tipped it sideways. Lillen shouted and scooted backwards as the table was flipped upside-down, sending all the dishware and food onto the floor. As the din started to cease, Cholly stomped over to Lillen and pointed at her face.

"You're _my_ fiancée, Lillen! That means you do wotever the fuck I tell you! _My_ fiancée cleans the house! _My_ fiancée doesn't serve me the same bullshit every fuckin' night! _My_ fiancée lies still when I fuck her; she doesn't try to fight me off or crawl away when I'm on top of her!"

Lillen couldn't say anything. She was shaking as she sat in the chair, flicking her eyes between her hot-headed fiancé and the shattered plates and bowls on the floor. Cholly sniffled and rubbed his nose with his arm.

"We fell in love fer a reason, Lillen. You love me. You _need_ me. Without me, yer just some stupid cunt with a pretty face. You do know that, right?"

"…Yes."

Cholly nodded. "Course you do. Now…apologize for upsetting me."

Lillen blinked twice and looked up at Cholly. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"I didn't hear you."

"…I'm sorry, Cholly."

The male hare grinned very slowly. "I know you are."

Cholly turned around and started to walk towards the bedroom. He kicked one of the fallen glasses aside and snorted.

"Clean this shit up."

Lillen didn't answer. She kept staring at her fiancé as he headed into the bedroom and slammed the door shut. Once she was finally by herself, she let out a tiny sob and covered her mouth as her eyes started to water.

* * *

They knew how to make the best of their situation, despite where they were at. The swamps still hadn't changed since the last time they wandered through here. All the trees were leaning and covered in moss and fungi. The branches hung low, with thin, slimy weeds dangling from them. The earth was soggy and greenish-brown; it was impossible for any of them to traverse the area without getting the muck on their footpaws. Incongruent purple and blue flowers grew around the trees and near smooth rocks. Nearly every tree in the swamp was riddled with polypores, and the beech stumps had hornworts or liverworts growing on them. A bitter-scented bog was located several yards north of where the Long Patrol had set up camp. Every now and then, small units of hares would scope out the bog to see if intruders were hiding in the trees, or they'd use the bog as their personal latrine.

But Lillen didn't let the dark and dreary swamp bring her spirits down. She and a few other hares had a fire going with a few lit lanterns lying beside them. The sound of the fire crackling and the swamp bubbling in the distance comforted her. She picked up a stick and poked at the fire a few times while the hare sitting across from her moved his paws above the flames.

"Least it's quiet tonight," said Watson.

Lillen blinked. "Not fond of crickets an' chirping birds?"

"No. It's just…silent. I actually like to hear m'self think."

"You mean you prefer not hearin' a giant badger roaring and screamin' orders at you?" asked a chubby sergeant.

Watson smirked. "That too."

The sergeant shrugged. "It must be hard for him, after wot happened in Tearmann. That was the one time we had a chance to relax and it all went to Hellgates."

"Yeah, well, that ain't no excuse for Urthquake to act the way he's acting now."

"He's got a point, Chigra," Lillen added. "We've all been through hell lately, and we're not goin' around snapping at everybeast."

"As I said, it's hard for him. He doesn't seem t'know how to…y'know, deal with shit."

"Course he does," Lillen responded. "Few bifurcated vermin and blood splashed on his paws perks him right up, wot!"

Lillen laughed to herself and smiled. But when she noticed Sergeant Chigra and Major Watson scowling at her, she blinked and started to frown. The hare cleared her throat and scratched one of her ears.

"D'you think he's going to get better?" Watson suddenly asked.

"Hmm?"

"Our Badger Lord. D'you think he'll get better?"

Chigra and Lillen flicked their eyes at each other. Chigra shifted around on the log she was sitting on while Lillen rubbed her arms and stuck her paws above the flames to warm them. Her ears moved a few times as she heard some of the ooze in the bog bubbling and the fire crackling. The corporal was hoping the sergeant would answer first, but Chigra was just as silent as she was. Lillen looked up at the major, surprised to see that he was still staring at her.

"It's hard to say. Beasts say they'll change, but you know how that story goes."

"Wot Urthquake needs is to stop being a Badger Lord fer a while," Chigra added.

Lillen blinked. "Wot?"

"Yeah! Y'know, jus' take a break from it all. And I'm not talkin' about a one-night romp in some village. We all go on relief after a few seasons—sometimes we're gone from the patrol for a whole season, maybe two."

"And then we get dragged right back in."

" _After_ we've had our break. How would you feel if you had to walk 'round these woods nonstop without ever takin' a break? Eventually you'd just shut down—"

"Or lose yer fuckin' mind," Watson butted in.

Sergeant Chigra snorted. "Okay, Watson, we get it. Urthquake is havin' issues with his sanity. We saw him in Tearmann, all naked an' covered in blood; we saw him nearly kill Corporal Bonson. We fuckin' know, okay? Maybe instead of sittin' here snidely whinin' about it, you could go over and try to calm the beast's mind, wot!"

"There is no 'calming' a beast like him. All he cares about is violence an' doin' things the hard way."

"And yet you still follow him and carry out his orders. I didn't see you hesitating back in Blackheart's fortress when we were gutting those vermin left an' right. I didn't see you cryin' yer eyes out after Urthquake chopped that pregnant vermin in half."

"That's 'cos I'm desensitized to it now. I've seen him do so much heinous stuff like that ever since I joined that it's normal to me now. I'd be worried if he _didn't_ do something like that."

"Aaaaaaaaand you are _still_ here. You're still supporting Urthquake. You're still killing under his commands. If you hate wot he does so much, you woulda left the patrol seasons ago. Yer jus' lookin' for somethin' t'whine about to validate your own hypocrisy. So either leave the patrol or shut your fuckin' mouth, wot!"

Lillen glared at Watson and Chigra as the two beasts kept scowling at each other. She moved her paws backward as the fire crackled and a spark nearly landed on her right paw. Lillen sniffed and chuckled as she looked at the two creatures.

"I think this swamp gas is startin' to get to you two!"

"Don't change the subject," Watson growled.

"I'm not. Look around you, Major. We're in the middle of a pitch-black swamp at night. It stinks, it's murky an' humid, and the ground is covered in wet, sticky sludge that's getting caught 'tween our toes. We haven't bathed in days, and several of us got food poisoning or some sort of rash on our bodies. Everybeast is on edge since the Tearmann massacre; I sure as shit know I am. But we're still a team here…we're still a family. Now is _not_ the time to start turnin' on each other due to our current situation."

Watson turned and faced Lillen. "D'you trust our Badger Lord?"

Lillen smacked a paw against her forehead. "You didn't hear a word I said, did you?"

Watson shrugged. "S'a simple question. D'you trust Urthquake or not?"

Chigra folded her arms and butted in. "Yes. So wot if he's committed some 'immoral' acts in the past? We all have. Fuckin' deal with it."

Watson turned and looked at Lillen next, waiting for an answer. But Lillen didn't respond. She stared at the major's dark brown eyes and blinked. Then she started to ponder, and her ears lowered as she looked at the ground. Maybe he was right, or maybe he was a hypocrite. But Lillen knew from what she saw that something was wrong with Urthquake, that the Badger Lord was losing control. She couldn't say "yes," not without sounding reluctant. She was starting to open her mouth when she heard muttering and a few wet squelches a few feet away from her.

"Fuckin' shrooms…confounded…"

The three hares looked into the darkness and saw a plump hare in blue materialize from the shadows. Becker stomped towards the campfire gritting his teeth and scratching his arms and back. The hare blinked twice as he looked at the other soldiers.

"Augh, can't wait 'til we get outta this bloody swamp, wot! Think those shrooms I ate gave me a rash!"

Lillen smirked. "Least you ain't got the trots."

Becker snickered as he started to scratch his rump. "Yeah, thank goodness for that. …So wotcha talkin' 'bout?"

"Oh, y'know, jus' wonderin' wot we're gonna do with that prisoner we got," Chigra lied.

"Yes. _That's_ wot we were talking about," Watson snidely remarked.

Captain Becker sat down beside Lillen and grumbled as he scratched around his thighs noisily. "No point in guessin' 'bout that! We're gonna find out all she knows an' then we're gonna kill her."

"You don't think she'll be valuable as an ally?" Watson asked.

"As an _asset_ , maybe. But there's no way we're workin' with vermin again—not after wot happened last time. We got enough trouble as it is havin' the Shadows on our side."

"So Urthquake's gonna rape her until she either bleeds out and dies or until she finally cracks an' tells us wot she knows," Watson concluded.

Becker shrugged. "S'long as we figure out where this bloody tribe is."

"Right. We'll jus' look the other way when it comes to torture."

"Are you intentionally _trying_ to find somethin' to complain about?" Chigra asked. "You gonna start complaining about piss bein' yellow, or why rain gets yer fur wet?"

Lillen kept glancing at all of the hares as they continued to bicker at one another. She kept her mouth shut and listened to all of their arguments as opposed to abruptly cutting any of them off.

"You said it was a mistake lettin' Lakler join the patrol 'cos of where he came from. You said it was a mistake hirin' the Shadows to begin with. An' now yer sayin' that Urthquake is makin' the wrong choices with how he's treating the weasel we caught," said Becker.

"Fine, fuck it. Ignore me an' all my logical suggestions. We'll just keep blindly following a thick-skulled tyrant who nearly killed one of us in a fit of anger."

Chigra rubbed her forehead. "Fer fuck's sake—d'you seriously jus' call Urthquake a tyrant? Is that wot you think he is?"

"He goes 'round committing reckless decisions that usually involve brute force and death. If none of us like wot he does, he usually screams at us to either leave the patrol or to shut up and deal with it."

"That don't make him a tyrant!" Becker shouted.

"Course not. Jus' makes him an arsehole who wants you to play by his rules, or else."

"Like I said earlier," Chigra started, "if Urthquake is so horrible, then either leave or do somethin' about it. But don't sit 'ere and keep sulking like a li'l bitch, wot!"

Lillen huffed and grabbed one of the lanterns on the ground. Then she stood up and started to walk in the opposite direction. Becker raised an eyebrow and turned around.

"Where you goin'?"

"To speak with the prisoner m'self."

"You really think she'll open up to ya?"

"It's better than sittin' here with our thumbs up our arses, innit?"

Becker suddenly stopped scratching his bottom and gradually moved his paw away from his tailhole. He sniffed and rubbed his nose. "All right then. Just be careful, yeah?"

"I will."

Lillen turned away from the campfire and descended into the darkness, with only the lantern and a few fireflies to brighten up the path.

* * *

Lillen stopped for a moment so she could rub her blackened eye. The hare winced and closed it, still wondering how long it would be before the bruise went away. She didn't try to touch her chest or feel around her tailhole again; it was better if she didn't grope either of those sore areas. The hare turned to her right and glared at Cholly as he finished washing his face in the river. Lillen huffed as she started to walk towards the bank and bent over so she could grab one of the backpacks. As she bent, the hare's fiancé turned and looked at her with a smirk on his face.

"No, honey. Turn 'round so I can see."

Lillen shut her eyes and huffed. But she obeyed, unless she wanted to get another black eye. As she turned and bent over, she wagged her short tail, presenting herself to the male hare. She thought Cholly was going to pounce on her again, but then she heard soft footsteps and felt Cholly's presence behind her. Lillen stood straight up, and then she grunted when Cholly wrapped his arms around her. She closed her eyes and sniffed as Cholly rumbled and moved his paws around her body. The male hare rubbed her stomach and chest with one paw before using the other to grope Lillen's orifices.

"You're beautiful. You know that, yeah?"

"Yes, I know…"

"Mm. Shame you still won't give me babes though."

Lillen didn't respond. She gritted her teeth and swore in her mind, hoping Cholly couldn't see the fist she was making. Cholly kissed her on the back of her neck and growled in her ears.

"Let's try again. Maybe it'll happen this time."

Lillen started to shake when Cholly squeezed her rump with one paw and moved the other dangerously close to her vulva.

"Hmm? C'mon, let's have another go at it!"

Lillen couldn't take it. She threw her arms up and broke out of Cholly's grasp. Then she stepped forward and started to breathe heavily. Cholly raised an eyebrow.

"Wot's wrong? Don't you wanna fuck again?"

"No," Lillen blurted out.

"No?"

"I'm not doin' this again, Cholly. I'm not in the mood and I don't have the fuckin' time right now."

"We've all the time in the world, darling! Why would you—"

"I DON'T—" Lillen turned around and huffed. "Not now, Cholly."

Lillen looked at the hare's face and frowned. His smirk quickly turned into a disappointed scowl, and then he started squinting. Cholly nodded very slowly.

"You think I'm not good enough. You think I don't deserve that cunt of yours. You-you think I don't deserve to raise children, is that it?!"

"NO! I-I didn't say—"

Cholly huffed. "Now you fuckin' ruined it. How am I s'posed to fuck you when I'm this upset?! You happy now you ungrateful bitch?!"

"I wasn't—pu-please, Cholly! I didn't mean—I didn't…I was—"

"Shut yer mouth you stupid cunt!"

Lillen whimpered and backed away. "I'm…"

"Is this how it's gonna be?! You gonna keep fuckin' everything up and messing up my future, my dreams of becoming a father?"

"I…"

Cholly scoffed. "Why do I even bother? I have a better chance of impregnating a searat than I do with you!"

Lillen shut her eyes and whimpered. "Cholly…"

"Wot good are you anyway? You don't cook the food I wanna eat; you don't wanna fuck when I'm hard; you can't bear babes—why the fuck are we even mated with each other?!"

"Cholly…"

"You may as well throw yourself over to a band of pirates an' let 'em use yer arse for entertainment, wot! You're better off being some greasy weasel's slave than my mate."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, CHOLLY!" Lillen bellowed.

Cholly stared at his fiancée with wide eyes just as Lillen started to approach him. "Wot good are _you_?! You think you should be proud of wot you do to me?! You think constantly talking down to me or beating me is something to take pride in?! Wot the fuck are you, Cholly? Oh, that's right: some cocksucker who doesn't know how to cook or clean or how to fight properly. I bet all your friends would _love_ to see you hit me in front of them!"

"You watch your fuckin' mouth," Cholly snarled.

"Why, Cholly? You gonna hit me again?"

Lillen shouted and fell to the ground after Cholly punched her in the jaw. She whimpered and lied still as she tasted blood in her mouth. The hare groaned and rubbed her mandible as Cholly towered over her, his right paw clenched into a fist.

"Get up."

Lillen panted as she gradually got to her footpaws. She stood in front of her fiancé and stared at the scowling hare.

"Now apologize."

Lillen nodded. "Okay."

The female hare opened her mouth to say "I'm sorry." But before the words could come out, Lillen made a fist of her own and punched Cholly in the left eye. Cholly shouted after he was caught off-guard and stumbled backwards. He looked at Lillen with shock and barely had time to react when she ran towards him and punched him in the stomach. Cholly groaned and bent over while Lillen snarled and punched him in the temple. Cholly quickly recovered and ducked when Lillen tried to punch him in the face again. While crouched, Cholly hit Lillen in the groin, causing her to shout and back away. Cholly stood straight up and grab Lillen's ears. He growled and tightened his grip on her, moments before he held her steady and punched her in the nose once, twice, thrice. Lillen moaned and coughed as blood started to run down her nose. She wheezed as Cholly planted his fist into her throat next, nearly damaging her vocal cords in the process. Cholly shoved the hare into the muddy water, and Lillen found herself face-down in the cold river.

The abusive hare got on his knees and shoved his paw on the back of Lillen's head, forcing her to swallow and breathe in the water. Lillen thrashed her head around and mumbled as the water crept into her maw. She jerked her arms backwards and moved her head around, desperately trying to fight off Cholly. She moved her right paw beneath the murky water and dug her fingers into the earth, gathering up a clod of mud. Then she aimlessly threw the clod to her left in hopes of hitting Cholly in the face. She missed, but Cholly had to veer his head away; he moved so quickly that he slipped and toppled backwards. Lillen lifted her head and gasped after the hare's paw slipped off her head. Then she turned and went straight for Cholly; the beast jumped on top of him and pinned him down. She punched him in the throat once before jabbing him in the nose three times. Cholly smacked her across the face, sending the hare back into the river. Cholly rolled over and was about to attack his fiancée again when Lillen reacted and instinctively reached for the hilt of Cholly's sword. Cholly didn't know what was happening until it was too late.

Lillen removed the sabre as swiftly as possible and swiped it sideways. Cholly fell down screaming while Lillen stood up and started to pant. She backed away from Cholly as the hare sat on the ground grasping his knee. Cholly swore twice as he tried to stand up. Blood was already running down his left leg; Lillen cut him so deep that the bone was almost showing.

"Y-you…you fuckin' bitch. You fucking BITCH! GIVE IT BACK!"

Lillen backed away as Cholly hobbled towards her.

"I SAID GIVE IT BACK!"

Cholly reached out and tried to snatch the sword away with his right paw. There was a single swift, vertical stroke of the sabre. And then Cholly went down, minus three of the fingers on his paw. Cholly screamed horrifically as the blood squirted from his severed fingers. He grabbed his paw and tried to stop the bleeding, but clutching his wounded paw only worsened the injury. He tried to stand back up, but the cut felt like it was already festering, unleashing a colossal amount of pain he couldn't tolerate. Cholly fell down to his side and started whimpering and shaking. Lillen slowly walked up to her fiancé and pointed the sabre at him. Cholly looked up at the hare with tears in his eyes. He held up his other paw and stuttered.

"W-wait…wait…"

Lillen kept staring at him, ready to finish him off.

"Please don't…"

* * *

Maybe this wasn't the best idea, but it was better than sitting around acting querulous like Watson. At least this way, there was a chance of the battalion finding some crucial information that would lead them forward. Lillen walked through the dark swamp meticulously, stepping as softly as possible and looking down at the ground. The last thing she wanted was to fall into one of the bottomless bogs. The corporal continued along the soggy path in front of her until she came across a lieutenant pacing in front of the weasel. The lieutenant saw the lit lantern in Lillen's paw and snorted.

"Hey, Blitzfur," Lillen said.

"Damn. Thought you were Honward."

Lillen blinked. "Wot about him?"

"He and Jadden were s'posed to take watch over the prisoner tonight. I've been walkin' in the same footsteps fer over an hour, wot!"

"They prob'ly fell asleep."

"I wouldn't be surprised. Everybeast is either sick or exhausted—including me. Think I got this rash on my back."

Lillen smiled as she observed Blitzfur scratching himself. "I'll take over. You go find Jadden and Hon, and get that rash looked at too."

"You sure you'll be okay on your own?"

"She's tied up, Blitz. An' even if she weren't, her leg's broken and it's the middle of the night. She wouldn't get far even if she did escape."

Blitzfur nodded. "Awright. Jus' holler if you need me."

Blitzfur picked up his own lantern and walked away from the weasel, grumbling as he resumed rubbing his back. Lillen walked in front of the weasel scout and blinked, taking note of how she looked. Her clothing wasn't ripped, but she appeared to have a few bruises and scratches on her face—some of the hares must've roughed her up. Her leg was still broken, although it looked like Lieutenant Hollis put some kind of poultice or herb on it to keep the wound from getting infected. Her footpaws were bound tightly with rope, and her paws were tied in front of her chest. She also seemed tired; her eyes were half-closed, and her head was lolling to the right. It wasn't until Lillen held the lantern in front of her eyes that the weasel inhaled loudly and sat straight up. The corporal smirked as she looked at the prisoner. She set the lantern down and stared at her. This is gonna be easy, she thought. Lillen smacked her paws together and rubbed them slowly.

"So, uh…how you want this to play out? Should I give the whole 'tell me wot I wanna know or I'll hurt you' speech? Maybe I should reassure you, tell you we'll release you if you talk. Eh, I could also just kill you, save us all the trouble. Hmm…so many options…"

The weasel blinked and flared her nostrils. Lillen could tell that the beast didn't care about her plans and that she wanted her to get it over with. Lillen sniffed and started to pace in Blitzfur's footsteps.

"I'm sure they gave you all those speeches, didn't they? The giant badger, Urthquake? All these other hares?"

The vermin still stayed silent. Lillen nodded. "Course they did. I could blow more words at you too, but frankly, I'm tired of that bullshit. So how's about I _tell_ you how this will work out for you?"

The weasel raised her eyebrow. Lillen stopped walking and smirked. "We're both females here. We're both surrounded by all these masculine beasts who think they rule the forest. But you and I both know that their decisions are wot's screwin' up the world. 'Hey, let's ram down a gate an' hope nobeast on the other side will kill us!'"

Lillen pointed behind her shoulder with her thumb. "My Badger Lord's strategy for takin' down a fortress. He only cares about one thing: killin' you vermin. It don't matter how many of us hares end up gettin' sent to the Dark Forest so long as he can fuel his fuckin' bloodlust every day. …Lost a very good friend of mine that day. I had to sit there an' watch him bleed out after his stomach was sliced open. Shame…he was really funny, too. Always liked to…ah, but yer not concerned about that."

Lillen sat across from the weasel as opposed to next to her. She wanted to have a clear view of the weasel so she would know if she was trying to escape.

"Some males out there see us and think we're a walking cunt. Some males see us as fragile, tiny creatures. They beat us, they tell us we're worthless, that we'll never amount to anything in life. And I…if we just sit there and do nothing, then eventually, that _is_ wot we'll be: walking, worthless cunts who let others take advantage of us."

The weasel blinked and lowered her eyes. Lillen picked up on the way she shuffled around uncomfortably. Maybe she was tired and sore and wanted the ropes cut off. But the corporal had a feeling that she just hit a nerve.

"Yer leader, it's a female, ain't it?"

The weasel looked back up at Lillen and nodded.

"Thought so. See, we actually _think_ about our decisions, 'bout wot actions to take. Only somebeast like your leader would be smart enough to attack a place like Tearmann at night, on the same day when they're havin' a massive romp and are naked and unprepared. And when you all saw our Badger Lord sufferin' from the Bloodwrath, you swallowed yer pride an' ran."

The weasel snorted. "Ye still haven't told me 'ow to help me."

Lillen grinned. "Simple. Make yourself valuable. They're not the boss; _you_ are. Let my Badger Lord an' anybeast else know that _you_ set the rules 'round here. You're surrounded by very, very hungry hares. Dangle a carrot in front of their mouths. Tell 'em that if they hurt you, then they'll never get said carrot. Get wot I'm sayin'?"

The weasel grinned. Now Lillen was starting to worry. She was hoping the vermin wouldn't throw reverse psychology in her direction. She was starting to regret this decision; she wasn't a specialist or somebeast who went around reading other beasts' minds. Was the weasel playing her? Was she pretending to act nice as a way to lower her guard? Lillen stuck her tongue in her cheeks and rubbed her paws again. Keep staring, she told herself. Let's see wot she says.

"Aye. I unnerstand."

Lillen nodded. "Good. So, mind showin' us this carrot?"

The weasel chuckled. "Angus Renhym. That's yer carrot."

 _Fuck_ , thought Lillen. The hare blinked and started to frown for a brief second. But she forced herself to stay calm, despite the unnerving revelation the weasel dropped in her lap.

"Angus, huh? Heard that name a few times. He's workin' with yer leader?"

"No. He's here, right now. He came with me t'spy on alla ye."

Fuck! Fucking, fucking—you have to be shitting me right now, thought Lillen. Lillen lowered her head and released an awkward cough to prevent herself from swearing out loud. The hare nodded slowly and smiled. Then she grabbed her lantern and began to stand.

"Yeah, see, there ya go! Now jus'…just keep doin' that when my Badger Lord questions you. I guarantee you, after a while, he'll let you go an' we both get to go home happy."

"Where's my carrot?"

Lillen blinked. "Wot?"

"Ye said we _both_ go home happy. But none a' ye held a carrot in front of me face yet."

The weasel grinned again. "So where is it?"

Lillen chuckled softly. "In due time…you'll see it in due time."

The hare couldn't continue. Talking to that weasel didn't do her any favors. All she knew now was that a target was painted on her back, and she didn't know where or when Angus would try to hit it. Lillen broke out into a jog as she hurried to find Urthquake and the others before Angus attacked.

* * *

"Please…"

Lillen stared at the pathetic hare lying on the bank of the river. The sword was beginning to feel heavy in her paws. She started shaking even though she wasn't panting or exerting as much energy as before. All she had to do was shove the sabre into the beast's chest, and it'd be over. She wouldn't have to deal with who used to be her fiancé any longer. Lillen didn't see any reason to leave the beast alive. And yet, as she moved the sabre closer to his body, she felt uneasy. Lillen closed her eyes and turned her head away. Then she lowered the sword and huffed. Cholly lowered his paw and exhaled with relief.

"…Now give it back," Cholly mumbled.

Lillen lifted her eyebrow as she looked at the hare. "Wot?"

"G-give…give it back…gimme my sword."

Lillen looked at the shivering hare still resting on the ground and sucked on her teeth. She shook her head.

"I think I'll keep it."

"You…you fuckin' bitch. Wot…wot d'you think yer doin'?"

Lillen turned around and looked at the sunny, clear forest behind her. Then she looked back at Cholly as he scowled at her and simmered in the mud.

"Leaving."

"No…we-we've been through this before. You can't—"

Cholly shouted when he tried to stand back up. He fell to the ground again and groaned as the muddy water seeped into his knee.

"You can't fuckin' leave me!"

Lillen shrugged. "D'you have my paws tied? Am I chained to a wall? Heh, I don't think so."

"Where you gonna go? Huh?! Wot the fuck you gonna do with your life without me?! You won't last a fuckin' week out there! You need me, you stupid cunt! Wit-without me, yer gonna be all alone. There's nobeast-nobeast out there who loves you like I do! You wanna be alone? You wanna die alone? That it?!"

"Yes," Lillen said bluntly.

"YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME!"

"Why do you even care? After all, I'm just a stupid cunt with a pretty face. 'Member? And evidently, I'm not capable of managing myself in a fight. I mean, I still have all my fingers, and I can still walk, but wot do I know, right?"

Lillen turned around and scoffed. "Truth is, I don't know wot'll happen t'me. But I'm sure you'll find another beast out there you 'truly' love. No need to worry 'bout me. I'll be fine. And so will you. Even though you can't walk and have three less fingers."

Lillen started to walk away. She didn't hesitate or have second thoughts. She was better off this way, whether Cholly liked it or not.

"Lillen…Lillen, come back here! Get your fuckin' arse back here, Lillen!"

Lillen kept walking. She didn't even shout "goodbye" to him. He didn't deserve to have that luxury.

"YOU STUPID FUCKING CUNT! LILLEN! GET THE FUCK BACK HERE! LILLEN!"

* * *

Lillen stopped running as soon as she found the badger sitting alongside a few other hares over a campfire. Colonel Clannin glanced at the panting corporal and blinked.

"Somethin' wrong, Lill?"

"Angus…Angus Renhym," she said, still out of breath.

"Wot about him?"

"He's here, in the swamp! I think he's been watching us this whole time!"

Some of the hares immediately stood up and grabbed the hilt of their swords. A few others started to look around the swamp and up into the trees. Colonel Clannin swore and rose from the beech stump he was sitting on.

"Shit."

"You can't be serious."

"Angus fuckin' Renhym is here?! I-I thought that weasel was stuck in the Northlands somewhere?!"

Lillen shook her head. "No. He-he's here. He has to be."

Urthquake turned and stared at Lillen. "And just _how_ do you know this?"

"I talked to the prisoner."

"And why were you talking to her when I told everybeast not to interact with her until morning? How do you know she's not lying?"

"Is that really important right now?!"

"It is. That weasel could've lied to you to upset you, to get you anxious. Because of that, you're not going to focus; you're going to wander around this swamp thinking there's a mysterious ghost watching you ready to shout 'boo' at any moment. Which means you won't be focused on the _real_ threats out here."

"M'lord, that weasel hasn't said a word to us since we captured her. I think we should take her word for it," said Major Fenson.

"Yeah. I think we should be on alert if a maniac like Angus Renhym is out here," said Sanjoy.

The badger was about to open his mouth when everybeast heard squishy footsteps in the distance. A few hares gasped and turned in the direction of the sound, while Urthquake flicked his eyes behind him and flared his nostrils. But instead of seeing another weasel, they only saw Blitzfur holding his lantern. Colonel Clannin stared at the hare and huffed.

"Fuck's sake. You almost gave us a heart attack, wot!"

"Sorry. I just thought they were over here."

"Thought who was over here?" asked Fenson.

"Hon and Jadden. I can't seem to find 'em anywhere."

Now the beasts were starting to get worried. Lillen flicked her eyes at Urthquake as if she wanted to say "See?" in a sneering tone. But she kept her mouth closed. Blitzfur looked at everybeast's apprehensive faces and blinked.

"Wot's wrong?"

Urthquake snorted and stood up. "Wake everybeast up. Travel in groups—do _not_ venture off alone. You see something or hear something wrong, you come find me or you go get help. Don't try to take on this beast by yourselves, got it?"

"Yes, sir," said all the hares, except Blitzfur.

"Wot the hell's goin' on?!" Blitzfur demanded.

"Angus Renhym might be tracking us. I want you and Lillen to go find Hon and Jadden. Check around the bog; they could be over there."

Blitzfur's ears drooped. "An-Angus Renhym? _The_ Angus Renhym?"

"We can shit ourselves later, Blitz," said Lillen. "We gotta find the others!"

The duo wasted no time with their search. As soon as they split from the main group, the two hares started to jog around the swamp desperately looking for the other soldiers. They didn't call out their names though; they tried to draw little attention to themselves. Whenever either hare heard a strange gurgling noise, a branch creaking, or the wind whistling in their ears, the duo stopped and turned down the flame within their lanterns. Lillen looked up into the sky, hoping the moon or the stars would brighten up the swamp. But all the drooping trees blocked out any form of light. The hare swore and pressed her back against a tree laden with polypores whilst Blitzfur crouched down and started to huff noisily. Lillen flicked her eyes at the lieutenant and exhaled softly.

"Calm down, Lieutenant. Take slow breaths—keep yourself steady," Lillen whispered.

"I-I can't. I can't fu-fuckin' calm down, Corporal!"

"You'll be fine, sah."

"Fine? Hehe, 'fine' she says. I've been here this whole fuckin' time and I haven't done _anything_ memorable up until now! D'you have any idea how vulnerable I am? I may as well wear a red coat fer fuck's sake!"

"You're being ridiculous, Lieutenant. Everybeast in this battalion knows you look ugly in red."

Blitz snorted and shook his head. Lillen waited until the noises in the background settled down before she turned the flame back up on her lantern. After brightening up the area, the hares resumed their search and started to sniff the air, hoping to catch wind of either hares' scents. Blitzfur quickly walked beside Lillen, constantly jerking his head left and right to make sure nobeast snuck up on him.

"So, uh, um…how you an' Becker doin'?"

Lillen blinked. "Oh, I'm fine. He's doin' well too. Why?"

"I mean…you-you know. You two, um…getting close or—"

Lillen sighed. "Are you askin' if we fucked already?"

"NO! …Why, did you?"

"No, Lieutenant. Wot makes you think we did?"

"I saw you kissin' him in Tearmann. He wasted no time, did he?"

"We weren't kissin'! He was upset and I calmed him down. I rubbed my nose against his."

Blitzfur paused. "You rubbed your _nose_ against his? Are you serious?"

Lillen scoffed. "Yes! Why we even talkin' about this right now?"

"I'm sorry—just-just, y'know, nervous. I talk a lot when-when I'm, uh, when I might die soon."

"Again, you pick _now_ to bring up a conversation like this?"

"Wot else are we gonna chat about, wot?"

"I dunno. Um, wot are yer plans when you retire from the Long Patrol?"

"Uh, nooooooooo, I am _not_ doing that, mkay? Retirement, family, wearing red—those are the three things a soldier should _never_ bring up or do, wot! I say I'm gonna retire tomorrow, BAM! Dead. I say I gotta a gorgeous wife at home, BOOM! Dead. I wear red—"

"Yeah, yeah, you die."

"Exactly. …So you and Beck. That goin' anywhere?"

Lillen rolled her eyes. "I like him, all right? He's nice and funny, and I think his belly and his fat butt looks cute. There. Now can you please shut the fuck up 'fore I rip yer ears off?"

"Oh, okay. So yer definitely not his mate then."

Lillen ignored him. "Just keep moving. Maybe…hold up."

Lillen looked up ahead near the bog and saw a faint glimmer of light near a set of moss-covered trees. She reached down with one paw and removed her sabre. She turned around and lowered a paw, signaling the lieutenant to crouch down. Blitzfur nodded and followed Lillen around the bog. The two hares moved from tree to tree, scanning the environment and listening to the sludge gurgling. Blitzfur jogged past Lillen and crouched down near a rotten log before he gestured Lillen to move up. The corporal jogged towards the log and stopped once she saw a shadow near the trees.

"I think I found 'em," Lillen murmured.

Blitzfur nodded and exhaled. The two hares gripped their weapons tightly as they advanced to the shadow. And then the beasts froze. Lillen gasped and nearly dropped her sabre when she found Hon.

"Fuck…we're too late," Lillen whimpered.

Blitzfur started to breathe heavily as he stepped towards Hon. He looked around at all the blood and exposed organs lying on the ground and groaned.

"He's…we-we can't…there's nothin' we can do, Lill. Just…fuck…"

Blitzfur turned away from Lillen and lowered his head. He swore again and sniffled while Lillen crouched down beside Honward and whimpered, knowing there was no way she could help him now.


	10. Green Is Not a Creative Color

**XXXIV**

 **Green Is Not a Creative Color**

 **A/N: Yes, it** _ **has**_ **been a while since I updated this story. But that's what happens when I decide to work no less than thirty hours per week and decide it's a brilliant idea to take four classes in college, all at the same time. I'm hoping to get another chapter done before this year ends (at the very least), but there's no guarantee. Anyways, enjoy reading!**

He was getting tired of them asking. He had a convincing lie. They needed to leave him alone and stop asking questions. All that mattered was that he was still alive and not like his friend. But they kept staring at him, just like all the others. Nobeast saw what he did. Nobeast knew but him. If everybeast would just shut up about it, they could get past the "tragedy" that occurred. The weasel flicked his eyes up at his parents again before he reached down and swiped the shellfish off his plate. He noisily munched on the seafood before reaching over and drinking the milk set out for him.

"Angus…"

Shut up; don't look at 'em, he told himself. Ignore them.

"Did you hear me, dear?"

 _Stop. Talking._ I already explained it to you. The young weasel grumbled as he snatched another shellfish from his plate. He was just about to start eating it when the weasel's father slammed his fist on the table.

"Yer mother is talkin' to you," he growled.

Angus stopped eating the shellfish and blinked. He slowly looked up at his parents and the stern gazes they were both giving him.

"Wot is it?"

Angus' mother huffed. "Son, we…we're not…"

"Not wot?"

"We love you, honey, but…l-lately you've been acting out. You…d'you remember wot happened to yore friend, Guslin?"

"He was _not_ my friend. And yes. Why?"

"You bit out his eye, son," said Angus' father. "You pounced on him and blinded him with yore teeth."

Angus scoffed. "So wot? He ripped my tunic—the fancy one ye gave me when I turned eight. I got angry."

"Angry beasts do not bite out other beasts' eyes," Angus' mother pointed out.

Fuck this. Just keep eating, Angus told himself. The young weasel ignored her and started to munch on the shell of the seafood, not caring whether or not it was edible. He slurped some of the meat noisily before he began to lick his fingers. He flicked his eyes at his parents again and stopped, knowing they were about to ask more questions.

"Tell us wot happened in the woods again."

Angus swallowed hard. "I told you: I found him like that."

"You found him?"

" _Yes_. Some…somebeast must've found him when we was playin' hide 'n' seek. I guess…I guess that-that, um, that beast killed him."

"And then you ran back home to let us know wot happened."

Angus nodded. "That's right."

The weasel's parents stared at Angus' stoic face for a moment, hoping he'd give away something that would reveal what really happened in the woods. But the young weasel didn't care. He found the ferret near a bush after somebeast choked him to death. That's all they needed to know. So Angus resumed eating his dinner while his parents dropped the subject altogether. But the young weasel was smarter than that. He knew that his parents would keep pestering him on and on and on again until he told them what they wanted to hear. So they had to die as well. It wasn't hard. All he had to do was wait until they fell asleep. And thanks to his father's training, he knew how to wield a sword properly, as well as an axe. He killed his father first, knowing he was much stronger and would've fought back. His mother spotted her son as he tried to chop her up as well, but her efforts to subdue her son were pointless, as Angus struck her in the abdomen with the axe and kicked her to the floor. Angus stood in front of her, breathing heavily and grinning, his body covered in blotches of blood.

"I killed him. That wot ye wanted t'hear? Hmm? Ye want me to confess wot I did?"

Angus' mother didn't respond. She sobbed quietly and tried to back away as Angus walked towards her.

"I've been soooooooo bored. So very, very bored. That li'l twat was always—he was always so damn _loud_. I told him to shut up, over and over again. But he never did. Even after I found him, he just kept _laughing_. He wouldn't stop. So you wanna know wot I did?"

Angus tossed the axe down and walked over his mother. He got on his knees and growled as he looked down at her bloody face. Then he placed his paws on her neck, blinked, and grabbed her.

"I pushed him to the ground. And then I got on top of him, j-just like this. Then I squeezed."

Angus started choking her. His mother opened her mouth to cough a few times, but then her coughs turned into soft grunts and sobs. She moved her legs and arms slowly, but her injury made her sluggish; she was already on the verge of dying from shock. Angus tightened his grip around her neck, choking her so hard he was digging his claws into her fur. Angus started to breathe heavily and snorted twice. He opened his mouth wide and exhaled as drool formed on his lips.

"I _squeeeeezed_ …just like this, mother! And I watched him…I watched him struggle. I felt him fighting back. I saw his life…I-I saw it going away."

Angus noticed that his mother wasn't fighting back anymore. She was hardly making any noise and her body was becoming limp. Angus snickered and exhaled again.

"I saw it in his eyes…when he finally died. And it-it…you…you have no idea…you've no idea how _fun_ it was."

His mother stopped moving. Angus kept his paws wrapped around her neck anyway and waited patiently. It wasn't until her body started to cool that the weasel exhaled and finally removed his paws. He stood up from the corpse and sighed, still grinning and feeling proud over his new form of entertainment. The young weasel giggled before he slowly walked away and picked up the axe. Who needs parents, he thought. Who needs a home? All I need are my two paws, and all the precious beasts in this world for me to play with.

* * *

It got easier as he grew older. He didn't need to wound beasts; he could creep behind them and strangle them with rope. He didn't need to fight beasts; he could shoot at them with his bow and arrow, or he could fling stones at their foreheads. For a while, Angus didn't care how he did it, or why. If he saw somebeast and the urge struck, he'd walk away leaving another corpse lying in the forest for the crows to feast on. He couldn't keep track of them all anymore. Some days he'd only run across a lone beast sitting by a campfire at night. Other times he'd spot half a dozen beasts in a small village, or a family or two. He didn't care about the gender or what species they were. All that mattered to him was that he'd be able to plunge his knife into the beasts he saw, or that he'd be lucky enough to choke them to death before they went to the Dark Forest. And yet, something felt amiss. Angus always thought a special entity was missing whenever he performed his kills. At first, he enjoyed it. But after all these seasons, the weasel began to question if his methods were boring now.

Somebeast had to have answers. Somebeast could explain to him what made him so special. Perhaps he'd be lucky enough to find some other beast who acted the same way he did. Angus shook his head and stopped questioning himself. He could find out the answers later. Right now, he needed to get inside this large hut and find more vittles for his travels. The weasel walked over to the hut's front door and knocked on it three times. He didn't have to wait long before the owner of the hut opened the door and revealed himself. Angus forced himself not to frown. He was hoping he'd find another family of beasts. Instead, the only beast he saw in front of him was an aging ferret with a bloated gut wearing tattered clothing.

"Well now, s'first time in a while I 'ad company!"

Angus forced himself to smile and blink. "Hello. I was, uh, just walkin' by. I noticed that I'm low on vittles so…well, I don't suppose you'd mind if I could borrow some of yers for my travels?"

The ferret laughed heartily and stepped aside. "Not at all! C'mon in; make yerself at home!"

Angus stepped inside the hut and exhaled as he set his backpack on the floor. Everything the ferret began to say to him was irrelevant. He tuned it all out as he observed the hut, trying to see what he could use to murder the ferret with. He didn't plan on choking him this time; he had done that enough already. There were swords hanging up on the wall, and a thick table he could slam the ferret's skull against. Angus looked left and right and sniffed; he had to find something new and creative this time around.

"Yeah, ain't t'best hut 'round here, but it be good 'nuff!"

Angus glanced at the ferret and nodded. "Right, yeah! Course mate."

The ferret started speaking to himself, which was the cue for Angus to drown out his words again so he could stare at all the weapons on the wall. He walked over and removed the rapier, holding it in his paw and smiling slowly as he gripped it. The weasel muttered something quietly to himself as he felt the weight of the weapon in his paw. He grumbled and set the rapier back down before he moved over towards the large scimitar that looked chipped.

"Oi, careful with that! That beauty's seen better days!"

Angus ignored him. He lifted the scimitar high and chuckled softly. Then he swiped the sword around three times, listening to the weapon as it sliced through the air. The ferret kept his distance as Angus kept playing with his new toy. He enjoyed this sword even more—he'd have to keep it after he was finished with this ferret. He only wished the beast would shut his mouth and give him all his food.

"…not much cake left, but I got it from one o' them Redwall chefs! Yeah, nice plump beast called Gavley or something. You c'n have that! There's some stew loaded with red onions, some chestnuts, berries and fruit—will this be good enough for you?"

Angus was so mesmerized by the scimitar that he didn't notice that the ferret was setting out all the food for him near his backpack. The weasel blinked and set the scimitar back down before he hissed shrilly.

"That…th-that's a lovely sword there, sah! May I ask where you retrieved it from?"

"Oh. It was, err, some years back. During the War o' the Islands."

"A war, you say? That must've been thrilling!"

The ferret shook his head. "Quite the opposite, actually. It…it were traumatizing. I, um…my sister perished when the enemy found our home an' burned it down. All me mates…it ain't a subject—"

"How long did this glorious event last? Wot-wot happened? How many beasts did you slaughter?"

The ferret awkwardly scratched his head. "Um…few years. We were hired t'try an' stop several marauders and pirates across the seas. Ran into a lotta nasty beasts—rapists, sadists…I can't explain wot happened. We just roamed the seas killin' pirates. They killed us. Rinse and repeat until they were all dead."

Angus took two steps towards the ferret. "So you murdered other beasts. How delightful! How…how did you feel?"

"Like…I dunno. I kept telling m'self I was doin'—why do you care so much? I thought ya jus' wanted some vittles?"

Angus took two more steps. "I'm just curious. Hmph. Did you…did you like it? Were you fixated on death?"

The ferret shook his head. "No. It was…horrible. All these bodies everywhere. Bodies floatin' in the water. Severed limbs an' corpses hanging from trees; don't get me started on the smell."

Angus flared his nostrils. "Tis an invigorating odor, is it not? A-a dirty searat whose corpse has been festering for days, weeks. A young little mousey whose bowels loosened from fright, just before I chopped his head off. A…a beautiful otter who I choked to death with my bare paws…."

Angus slurped, unaware that some saliva was dripping down his chin. "So much fun," he whispered.

The ferret backed away and raised an eyebrow when Angus stepped even closer to him. "Why did you do it?"

"Do wot?"

"Kill. If you didn't like it, why do it?"

The ferret looked up at the weasel and started to wiggle his nose as he backed away again. "Can you back up a li'l bit?"

Angus grinned and stepped forward once more. "Why? Do I frighten you?"

"No, but yer breath is startin' to make me a bit woozy," said the ferret as he plugged his nose.

Angus growled and blinked. "I'll move when you answer my question. Why did you kill?"

"I don't know. I just—I was followin' orders, awright?"

Angus shook his head. "That's an excuse we tell ourselves. 'I don't know' or 'I didn't mean to' or 'somebeast made me do it.' Uh-uh. That's all bullshit. Yo…y-you wanna know the real reason behind it all?"

The ferret started to scowl. "I told ya: back the fuck—"

The ferret shouted as he felt a sharp pain in his midriff. In the span of only a second, Angus had taken out his knife and planted the blade deep into the beast's torso. Angus snarled as he shoved the ferret against the wall, pinning him as he gripped his knife firmly. He started to pant and hiss as his heart began to beat fast.

"Because it's fun! See?! See—look! Look at this!"

Angus looked down as blood started to run down the home owner's body. "Look at how thick that blood is! And-and the sound…"

Angus removed his blade slowly, seconds before he proceeded to stab the ferret again. He struck him steadily, making sure he could hear the knife's blade as it tore through the fur and skin and continued forward, tearing the flesh apart. Angus rumbled as he continued to drool. He licked his lips while the ferret whimpered and tried to find a nearby weapon.

"They always struggle. They…they always think they can escape it. But no…no; it's inevitable. You will die by my paws. Hehehe, remarkable, isn't it? You-you never did this? You never got this close to yer victims? You never watched as their souls left their bodies and headed straight for the Dark Forest or Hellgates? …You never found this _fun_?"

Angus removed his knife, and the ferret collapsed to the floor. He whimpered as he tried to stand up, but Angus kicked him back down and drove the knife into his throat this time around.

"This is it, sah. This is why we do wot we do. 'Cos it's pleasurable. And yet…I never asked m'self _why_ it's fun. I just do it. Heh. I-I dunno why I do this; I can't stop. I don't _want_ to stop. But _why_ don't I want to stop? Wot makes…"

Angus frowned. He noticed that the ferret wasn't moving anymore and that a puddle was forming in-between his thighs. The weasel removed the knife and huffed with frustration.

"Damn it. I gotta stop doing that 'fore I'm finished talkin' with 'em. Ah well. Thank you fer the vittles, kind sah! Hehe, I appreciate it very much!"

Angus grabbed all the vittles the ferret had acquired for him and stuffed them all into his backpack. He was just about to grab the pack and head out the door when he looked at the swords hanging from the wall again. The weasel sniffed as he approached the scimitar and picked it up slowly a second time. He growled as he looked at the weapon and started to grin once more.

"War…yes. Such a brilliant, brilliant word…"

* * *

It wasn't hard afterwards. After a few weeks of traveling, the weasel came across a warlord named Kitsch who wanted to take over the Northern section of Mossflower after many disputes near the Northlands border. Angus couldn't have been happier after he agreed to join the warlord and his special group of mercenaries who worked under him—the Spawn of Hellgates they were called. The Spawn had no boundaries, no rules, no regulations. All they cared about was doing whatever was necessary to help their warlord win the war. Angus was just a mere foot soldier when he first joined, until he crept along their commander while the ferret was sleeping and cut his throat open. He declared himself as the new leader of the Spawns, and killed anybeast who tried to undermine or take over his position. It wasn't long before spying on the enemy and guerilla warfare turned into massacring villages and kidnapping the enemies' family members. Day after day, Angus would order his soldiers to torture young beasts or a soldier's sibling to death just to prove a point. Other times he'd chop off the beasts' body parts just to see how long they would last, and then he'd hang all the body parts on display in the woods for unlucky wanderers to find.

Hundreds perished on both sides of the war before it finally ended in the fall, six seasons after it initially began. Angus and the Spawn of Hellgates had taken over the territory, and all the beasts opposing them had either died, were their personal slaves, or left the area, knowing that it wasn't worth it anymore. All the bodies of the fallen had been buried or carried off by the river, or eaten by the crows. The whole section of the woods seemed like it was finally at peace now, with Angus and the other vermin troops as the victor. But Angus wanted more. He needed more. The Spawn commander intentionally kept his entire squadron alongside the warlord weeks after their victory was declared—Angus spent day and night trying to find somebeast, anybeast to torment or kill. Eventually, he realized that his job was done, and it was time for another mission. One night, after hunting a few birds for food, he stormed into the warlord's private tent so he could have a word with him.

"If'n it ain't Angus the Hellraiser hisself! How ye doin'?!"

Angus chuckled and rubbed his arm. "I'-I'm good, sah. Been better, but I'm okay right now. Just…jus' lookin' fer more stuff t'do."

Kitsch chuckled as he bent over and picked up a sack filled with treasures from the ground. "Wot 'stuff' are ye referrin' to? I got…heh, _we_ got wot we wanted! All this land's mine, all them silly goodbeasts are dead or gone, an' we're all free t'do wotever the fuck we wanna do 'round here! Wot else is left?"

Angus blinked and scratched his head. "There's more goodbeasts out there! Beasts who could ruin yer empire! I could—"

Kitsch held up a paw and shook his head. "You've done more than enough, commander. It's over now. We won! Nothin' left to do but celebrate and bask in our victory! Speakin' of which, here's yer loot!"

Kitsch tossed the sack full of shiny treasure at Angus' footpaws. The weasel bent down and looked inside the bag, surprised to see all the gems and rubies the warlord and his crew had pillaged from their adventures. Angus' face twitched. He looked as though Kitsch just handed him a bag full of fecal matter. Angus blinked twice and let out an awkward cough.

"S-sir, I…I-I thought…aren't we—"

"Angus, we won, buddy! Hehe, relax! Enjoy yerself now! We all earned it! Go explore the world; find yerself a nice female t'have babes with! Go back home; do something to ease your mind. Isn't that wot you wanted?"

Angus didn't answer. He kept staring at the warlord with a grim face. He looked inside the sack again, then looked back up and resumed staring at the ferret, waiting for some kind of answer. Kitsch blinked and rubbed his nose before he gestured towards the tent's flaps.

"Go head back to your tent and gather up your things. Yer free t'leave whenever ya want."

Angus still didn't answer. He lowered both arms as the warlord resumed looking back at all the treasures he had purloined ever since the war began. The weasel released a shrewd, awkward grunt, and then turned around and walked away. As the weasel returned to the Spawns' personal, oversized tent, Angus dragged his footpaws and the sack of treasure on the ground. He didn't know what to think anymore. All these seasons, all those corpses, all the blood he spilled—and now it was finally over. Each time the weasel blinked, he'd see a faint image of the beast he brutally killed in combat—or before he even joined the army. His ears twitched a few times, and the weasel thought he heard the same comforting wails and screams he was so familiar with by now. But unfortunately, it was only the sound of his fellow soldiers celebrating and drinking bottles of wine or grog. Angus' mouth moved as he tried to force himself to smile, but he couldn't even do that. Some of his soldiers laughed joyously or offered him a drink, but Angus snarled at them or shoved them out of his way.

After Angus maneuvered through the crowd, he reached his cot and sat down hard. He tossed his bag of jewels on the ground and looked down. He couldn't look up at the celebrating beasts; he couldn't stand to listen to them cheering and shouting. Angus snorted a few times and started to clench his paws into fists. The weasel told himself over and over again to calm down, but how could he? There had to be more to this; there had to be something greater. Or maybe this was it. Maybe this is all I have, Angus thought. Maybe… _no_. Not…not now. Angus removed his large dagger from its sheath and held it firmly in his paws. The memories started to flood back again. Angus thought he'd start smiling as he gripped the weapon's blade. But all it did was make him feel worse. He couldn't stop reminiscing, no matter how hard he tried. Angus closed his eyes and exhaled softly. He shook his head for a brief moment as he felt a lump in his throat and his chest became heavy. This couldn't be it…it couldn't be. Angus sniffled as his vision blurred.

"Hey, commander! Ye wanna get…s'matter?"

One of the other Spawns approached him and sat down on his cot. Angus slowly moved away from him and turned his head away. But he couldn't stop sniffling and whimpering. The other soldier glanced at Angus' face and could see that it was wet with tears.

"Wot…commander, it's…it's okay now. We won. Ye don't have…you'll be all right, commander. No more of this. No more killin'; no more war. We can go home now."

Angus sobbed and sniffled as the other rat reached over and placed a paw on his shoulder. Angus turned and looked at the rat, still sniffling as more tears ran down his face.

"It's over, sah."

"…W-wot?"

"It's over."

Angus could only stare. "It's over," he said. All of it. It was over now. The weasel didn't even blink as he gazed at the rat's tender, reassuring smile. Angus blinked twice and shut his eyes. Then he tightened the grip on his dagger and started to grit his teeth. The rodent frowned.

"Uh, commander?"

Angus whimpered and shook his head slowly. He muttered something without fully opening his mouth.

"Commander? Wot's wrong?"

Angus opened his eyes and glared at the rat. It happened before anybeast could react. The weasel bellowed and pounced on the rat. Then he immediately shoved the blade of his dagger into his scalp. Angus removed his dagger and stabbed the rat again once, twice, thrice; he couldn't stop snarling and stabbing the rodent. One of the other Spawns—a stoat—saw the commotion and walked towards Angus. The weasel responded by tossing the dagger into the stoat's eye socket. The other soldiers were just beginning to realize that two of their own had been murdered. All the soldiers he spent the last six seasons fighting beside were nothing more than pieces of meat for him to rip apart. Half of the beasts went down before they could even reach their weapons. Some had their throats slashed; others were disemboweled so violently that they were nearly bifurcated. One weasel was starting to unsheathe his rapier when Angus sliced his head in half and kicked him to the ground. The weasel stopped and stared at the rest of the beasts, whimpering and snarling, still sobbing even though he was enraged.

He knew they wouldn't attack. They were too loyal to him. They cared about him too much. It was their ultimate downfall, as Angus ended up cutting down all the Spawns with almost no effort. For all their ferocity and skill, the soldiers weren't even capable of killing their own commander. By the time Angus finished, blood was splattered across the tent, and some of the beasts' organs were lying on the ground. The beast wiped some of the blood and tears off his face before he stomped outside the tent and headed straight for Kitsch's tent. The weasel didn't have to travel far; the commotion he caused alerted the ferret, and he came outside his tent to investigate.

"Angus! Wot the fuck's goin' on?! Wot—"

Angus didn't hesitate. The moment he saw Kitsch, he yowled and thrust his cutlass into his torso. Kitsch shouted and gasped as the blade tore through flesh and bone. The ferret groaned as he felt the warm blood running down his waist; he panted and tried to reach for his weapon, but Angus quickly snatched it away first. The weasel kicked Kitsch to the ground, and the ferret started to crawl backwards as Angus crept towards him.

"Wa-wait…wait—"

"SHURRUP!"

"Why? …Wot the fuck did I do to you?! I jus—" Kitsch groaned as he stopped crawling and grabbed his gaping wound. "I-I gave you rewards, riches! I…I never betrayed you. I-I never tried to kill you; I was always kind to you!"

"This is wot you call 'kind'?! Throwin' me away like a piece of trash?! Like I'm a torn tunic that needs t'be replaced?!"

"Wot? Th-that's not wot—"

"I'm yer best fuckin' soldier an' you know it! I'm better'n all of you! I'm not some fuckin' tool that ye can use then cast aside when yer done with me! I'M SPECIAL!"

Kitsch stared at the infuriated, teary-eyed weasel as he gritted his teeth and continued to growl. Upon hearing those last words, the ferret couldn't help but laugh.

"That's wot this is? You…you think yer special?"

"I'm the world's greatest killer; the world's most magnificent murderer! I'm—"

"Yer a spoiled li'l twat who murdered his own parents."

Angus' eyes grew wide. " _Wot_?"

"You…you think you're special 'cos you slew your own parents when you were a babe? Hmph. Lookit you. You're cryin' like a li'l bitch 'cos…wot? 'Cos I told you, 'You're done here, go home'? You're upset that you can't go 'round killin' beasts anymore?"

"NO! I'M UPSET—"

"I-I see beasts like you all the time, Angus. Ye always think _you're_ special. Ye always think _you're_ the best fighter, best conqueror, best wotever out there. But there's nothin' special about you. No, nothin' at all. You keep tellin' yourself that you're…you're an almighty being, but yer just another average beast who enjoys cutting his victims apart."

"I'm…I _am_ spec—"

"I have no use fer you no more. I—" Kitsch grunted as he held his bleeding midriff. "That's all yer…yer ever gonna be, Angus. A _thing_. Beasts like you are always gonna be used simply fer—"

Angus silenced Kitsch permanently when he threw a knife into the ferret's head. After killing the warlord, the teary-eyed weasel stared at his former leader and started to breathe heavily. He slowly fell to his knees and began to whine and shake uncontrollably. But the weasel didn't start sobbing hysterically, even though tears were still flowing from his eyeballs. Instead, the beast grinned widely and let out an unsettling noise that sounded like a wicked laugh and a deathly moan. Angus blinked twice as he nodded and dropped his weapons.

"I'm…I-I am special…special…I'm better'n alla you…I'm special…"

Angus let out the same disturbing noise again, his eyes still watering as he sported the same grin on his muzzle.

"S-special…I _am_ special…"

* * *

Clearly war wasn't for the weasel. After his incident with warlord Kitsch and the Spawns, it became obvious that nobeast understood how valuable Angus truly was. He reverted back to his old ways, and resumed traveling around the world slaughtering anybeast who stood in his way. But this time around, he was more creative with his murders. Not content with simply taking somebeast's life, Angus felt compelled to defile the corpses. One time the weasel decapitated a small group of rodents and stuck all their heads on pikes. Some weeks later, the weasel befriended a family of mice and disemboweled all of them, just so he could show them all how "beautiful" everybeast was on the inside. But being alone for so long took its toll on Angus' mind, and the weasel began to lose his sanity. What started as mere killing sprees soon turned into an obsession. What was merely a source of thrills quickly became erotic. But despite everything that was happening to the weasel, he never questioned any of it, nor did he ever stop.

But one day, after Angus had finished clubbing a young rat's face in, he came across a sight that puzzled him tremendously. He could still remember the clouds in the sky on that fall afternoon. He could still picture how calm the rat was, even after Angus finished crushing his son's skull. The weasel breathed heavily as he blinked and approached the rat on his knees. He couldn't fully decipher the rat's incoherent phrases, but Angus noticed a few words he thought he'd never hear ever since he was a young babe.

"You have got to be _shittin'_ me. You…you're _praying_?"

The rat didn't look at Angus. He stayed very still, his head bowed, eyes shut. The rodent kept muttering to himself, even as the weasel started to circle around the subdued rat who had his paws tied behind his back.

"Yeah…yes, you are! Hmph, been a while since I ran into one of _your_ kind. Never really understood why you twats believe in that nonsense. It's a bundle of hypocrisies, y'know. You're praying to a holy being for mercy, yet this very same being is responsible fer creating me! So, in a way, this 'God' yer praying to is the one who's killin' you, not me."

Angus stopped walking around the rodent and stood in front of him. Still nothing. The rat didn't even stop after hearing the weasel's words. Impatient, Angus stomped towards the rat and smacked him across the face. Then he crouched down and grabbed the rat's jaw; he held it steady so the two vermin were staring at each other face to face. Angus grinned slowly while the rat gradually opened his eyes.

"That's better. So, you do believe in this 'God,' yes?"

The rat didn't answer. Angus snorted before he reached down and lifted his trusty dagger. He snickered as he pointed the blade at the rat's right eye.

"Since God is so mighty and powerful, then He should be able to stop me, right? He should be able to snatch this 'ere dagger right from me paws an' strike me down! Am I right?"

The rat blinked and flared his nostrils. "Do what you must."

Angus was still surprised that the beast didn't falter. "I _will_ kill you. Your 'God' is not comin' here t'save you. Surely you must unnerstand that!"

"You have already slaughtered my family. What reason do I have t'fear death?"

Angus stood up and resumed circling the rat again. "How 'bout the fear of me castrating ye? Ye wanna know wot if feels like fer me t'scoop our yer eyeballs while yer still breathing?"

The rat shrugged. "It matters little now."

"Why?! Why is yer life no longer important now that yer so close to death?!"

"Because I have everything that I want. All I wanted to do was grow old, find somebeast who loved me, maybe have a few babes. And I did. These last several seasons have been the best seasons I could ever ask for, an' nothing you say or do to me will change that fact. Sure…my family is dead now, but they're at peace, resting in the Dark Forest. Soon enough, I shall meet them again, and we'll all spend the rest of eternity together, happy and free from beasts like you."

Angus snorted. "Yes, yes, wot a touching story. So, you want me to slit yer throat, or flay you alive?"

The rat finally looked up at Angus and shook his head. "Beasts like you don't even anger me anymore. I look at you, and all I feel is pity."

"I assure you, nothin' about my life has been pitiful."

"Look at what yer doin'. Look at what you've _done_. You…you take the lives of innocent beasts for entertainment. Nobeast can possibly feel ecstasy from that."

"Uh, yeah. I can! I do it every day! And with every kill, I feel _that_ much happier than I did before!"

"But this 'happiness' is only temporary. It never lasts. It never will. It's a curse you'll never get rid of, an albatross that will always cling to your neck. You can tell yourself over and over again that what yer doing makes you happy, but even you know deep down, that this…it's a never-ending hobby that won't give you satisfaction."

Angus scoffed. "Like you know. Why, even as a babe, I slew my own parents! Let me tell ya, that were the most satisfying thing I've ever done in my life!"

"And?"

Angus sniffed. "And I've slain hundreds ever since then!"

" _And_?"

Angus frowned. "Wotcha mean 'and'?"

"Why is this _so_ important to you? Why did killin' yer own parents give you satisfaction? Were they abusive?"

"No."

"Did they force themselves on you?"

"Never."

"So why do it?"

Angus smiled. "Were you not listenin'? It gave me euphoria! It…it made me realize I was different from everybeast else! Special even!"

" _Why_ in the world would you think that killin' yer own parents would make you special?"

"Because…"

Angus stammered. Nobeast ever asked him that before. He never thought about it. But now that the question was finally being proposed, he couldn't find an answer. Sure, murdering his parents was exhilarating, and slaying all these beasts was definitely fun. But _why_ was it fun? _Why_ did he enjoy it? He never asked. He never seemed concerned to know. He started to think about it for a moment, trying to figure out if there was some reason as to why he acted the way he did, if there was some deeper meaning behind everything. Angus looked down at the rat and stammered again before he scratched his head. He felt like cutting the rodent's throat open right then and there. But for some strange reason, he couldn't.

"Because you hate yourself," the rat answered.

"Wot?"

"That's why you do this: you hate yerself. You can't stand up to the fact that you murdered yer own parents. So instead of livin' up to your actions, you go around killin' as many beasts as possible, thinkin' that 'joy' you felt when you slew your mother and father will make you happy again."

The rat shook his head and sighed. "You do what you must."

Angus blinked and stared at the rat for a moment. And then he scowled and sliced his throat open with the dagger. To his surprise, the rat didn't gasp or look surprised, nor did he seem as if he was trying to cling onto his last moments of life. He stayed very still as the blood flowed down his chest and clothing. And then he slouched over and fell on his side, letting out a soft sigh as he passed on. The weasel stared at the dead rat and his family and scoffed. Fuck do you know, he thought. Fuck do _any_ of you know? The weasel retrieved his weapons and stole all the supplies from the rat's family and took off, as opposed to staying behind to marvel at his destruction. All day and night, the only thing he could ponder were the rat's words. Clearly he wasn't right. It was obvious that the rodent was trying to toy with him, trying to make him go insane as he spent all his time rethinking his current lifestyle. Angus sat alone in the forest, gazing at his small campfire and listening to the crickets chirping and other bugs making noises in the distance. He had nobeast to kill now, no way of pleasing himself. All he had were his thoughts and the burning wood in front of him.

The wood crackled, and Angus flinched when a spark flew off and hit him on the leg. He swore and patted his leg for a moment before he stared at the fire again. The weasel rubbed his paws together and held them over the fire. He blinked and held his paws closer, only to wince once he burned himself. Angus swore and stared at his paws, and then he looked at the fire again. Something in his brain finally clicked. He held his paws over the flames once more, and was singed a second time. But he didn't swear or direct any anger towards the fire. After all, it was only doing what it's supposed to do. The rat's words, warlord Kitsch, all those times he asked himself why he was the way he was—he finally understood now. Everything that they said was irrelevant. Angus let out a tiny chuckle, feeling a large weight lifted now that it all made sense. The weasel smiled widely and laughed again. He clenched his fingers together and giggled uncontrollably. Then he slouched over onto his side and started to hoot with laughter.

It was all clear now.

* * *

He didn't change. Even as Angus developed and aged over more seasons, he never stopped killing for sport. And now that he knew _why_ he acted the way he did, there was no reason to ever question himself again. The weasel traveled west, evading those who sought to slay him for his war crimes and leaving more bodies in his wake. He heard from local birds and some vermin about the rise of the Red Sand tribe. And upon knowing what the tribe was allegedly capable of, he just had to find them and join in on their fun. So the weasel walked all the way to the western coast until he spotted the so-called markings of the deadly tribe. Various patches of the sand were stained with dark fluids, most likely blood. Although when Angus arrived at one of the sandy beaches, he was surprised to see fallen vermin still resting on the sand, their corpses attracting flies. When the weasel found the vermin who were still alive, many of them were wounded or already on their way to the Hellgates. Angus chuckled as he approached a small group of beasts crowding over a wounded ferret.

"Now don't tell me that _this_ is the infamous Red Sand tribe I've heard so much about!"

A rat jerked his head around and immediately removed both of the cutlasses he had behind his back. "Back away. You've no business bein' 'round our lady."

Angus rubbed his chin. "Lady, huh? Dont'cha mean yer bitch?"

The rodent scowled as he stomped towards Angus, only to stop when one of the ferrets called out his name.

"Rektar…it's fine. Stand down; I'll take care of it."

Angus placed his right paw near one of his knives in case he needed to use his weapon. Rektar lowered his cutlasses and stepped aside so the ferret in question could walk up and face Angus herself. She tried not to limp as she walked, but the laceration around her midriff made it difficult for her to move. Angus rubbed his nose and gazed at the ferret in blue with red tattoos spread across her face. The ferret stared at Angus and exhaled.

"If you jus' came here to shoot yer mouth off, I suggest you leave. Your tongue may still be intact if you depart now."

"Yes, of course. The famous Angus Renhym is frightened of a tiny li'l cunt who can barely stand."

The ferret stared at Angus and scowled. "Yer Angus Renhym?"

Angus snickered as he bowed slightly. "At yer service, 'lady.'"

The ferret scoffed. "Fuck off. I don't need beasts like _you_ in my tribe."

"But I insist! After all, I'm sure you've heard of somebeast with my particular skills—"

The ferret raised a paw. "I'm sorry. Correct me if I'm wrong, but less than a minute ago, you called me a bitch, an' then a cunt."

Angus laughed. "Well, some dog did push ye out of her hole fer you t'be here, right?"

The ferret still remained calm. She started to walk around the weasel, blinking and leaving her footprints in the sand. She sniffed the weasel and few times, scowling whenever his strong, musky scent flowed into her nostrils. She reached over and placed her left paw on his shoulder, causing Angus to raise an eyebrow. The ferret squeezed his shoulder and Angus winced. Afterwards, she ran her claws down the beast's back until she grabbed Angus' tunic and lifted it up. Angus was still looking confused, wondering why the ferret was constantly groping him. He grunted again when the ferret examined all of Angus' scars and bruises. He had a nasty cut on him as well that looked like it became infected. The ferret lowered Angus' tunic and scoffed before she walked in front of the weasel. She stared at him for a couple of seconds before she walked towards him and punched him in the stomach. Angus grunted and opened his mouth, giving the ferret enough time to grab his mandibles and gradually pry them open.

The second the ferret pried his maw open all the way, she veered her head away after she was blasted by the weasel's foul breath. The ferret groaned with disgust before looking inside Angus' mouth. Most of his teeth were yellow and cracked and his gums were red and partially swollen. Some of his teeth were missing, and a couple of them appeared to be black. The ferret kept staring at the beast's teeth and red tongue before she stuck her thumb inside Angus' maw. She pressed her thumb against some of his teeth until she noticed that one of the cracked ones was loose. So the ferret pushed against it, making Angus mumble.

"Whut ga fack ya do…"

The ferret grunted as she pushed harder. And then Angus shouted as the tooth broke off and landed on his tongue. The ferret let go of Angus' maw and stepped backwards, while the weasel spat out the tooth and some of the blood forming in his mouth.

"You're dying, aren't you?"

Angus spat out more blood and swore softly as the ferret approached him again and resumed walking around his body. Only this time around, she slyly removed one of Angus' knives from his waistsash. By the time Angus realized what she had done, the knife was already at his throat. Angus shut his eyes and exhaled.

"I suggest ye put that knife down."

"Or what? You gonna kill me with yer breath?" The ferret chuckled quietly. "The war, all these seasons on yer own, with nobeast to nurse ya—it's been rough on your body. You have all these cuts and bruises; your shoulder feels like it's been dislocated one too many times; you got a nasty infection around your sides too, right above yer kidney. I wouldn't be surprised if you lost all yer teeth by the fall. There's no way you'll make it past winter either—not with what I've seen."

The ferret dropped the knife and backed away from Angus. "I don't need to kill ya. Neither does my tribe. I give ya a season, maybe two. Then I'm sure you'll die in pain and agony, lying on the ground, your trousers full of shit as you contemplate why your body is hurting so much."

Angus rubbed his cheek for a moment and spat out more blood in the sand. He flicked his eyes at all of the ferret's troops, taking note of how uninterested they were in him now. The ferret was on the verge of turning her back on Angus after seeing how damaged his body was. But this was the weasel's last chance. He still had time to give in to his sadistic desires before he reached the Hellgates.

"Yes…I've aged terribly. And may-maybe my body isn't wot it used to be. That's…that's why I'm here. Yer the Red Sand tribe, are you not? Surely you need somebeast like me to kill for ya? I…I prob'ly don't got much time left. Won't be long 'afore somebeast out there kills me fer all the shit I've done in the past. So…so tell me: wot is it I can help ya with?"

Rektar walked beside the ferret and talked in a soft voice. "Lady Sesslyn, we can't trust—"

"This isn't the first time we've worked with mercenaries. Won't be the last. Besides…"

Lady Sesslyn grinned. "I doubt this weasel will even survive the ambush."

Angus chuckled awkwardly as he held up one finger. "One. Ju-just…just one! Just one more! I-I need—I need to relive that moment again! Let me…let me help you! Let me kill fer you; let me cut beasts down with my weapons; let me choke the life out of them; let me chop them to little pieces! That's…that's all I want. One more…then it'll be finished. I've been on this world long enough…maybe it is time fer me to die."

"But you wanna go out with a bang, don't you?"

" _Yes_ ," the weasel hissed as he grinned. "A grotesque, wondrous, blood-filled bang!"

Lady Sesslyn shrugged. "If you think yer up for it, good for you. If you end up perishing durin' the fight, well, good for you anyways. …I only ask you of one thing."

"Wot's that, m'lady?"

"Don't call me a bitch again."

Angus smirked and bowed. "Of course, m'lady."

* * *

After all the confusion in Tearmann, Angus and a few other soldiers were separated from the Red Sand tribe. The weasel had no idea that a badger like Urthquake and his army would be in the community, but when he saw the giant behemoth with his own eyes, he knew he had to kill him. If there was one last thing Angus had to do before he reached the Hellgates, it was killing the Badger Lord, along with several of his hares. When Angus and the soldiers finally regrouped with Lady Sesslyn, she ordered a few scouts to search the area while she and her army headed back to the coast to find more reinforcements. So Angus and another weasel headed into the murky swamps and began to spy on the Long Patrol as they traversed the muggy lands. They always stayed hidden in the trees, only coming down to gather food or to void themselves. Angus didn't care about the other weasel though; she always kept talking to him in a snide voice and was prone to exacerbating situations. One day, the two weasels were spying on a couple of hares in the rain when Angus started to thump his tail against the tree branch they were sitting on.

"They're so…oblivious. Ignorant. Just ripe fer the takin', yes. …How much longer must we wait, Dersky? How much longer before I finally have my fill?"

The weasel rolled her eyes. "Why, Angus? You gonna shoot yer load too early if we wait any longer?"

"I just might, dear Dersky!"

Dersky flicked her eyes at Angus and snorted. "I'm sure ye would."

Angus grinned as he scooted close to the other weasel and nudged her with his muzzle. "Sumthin' you wanna tell me?"

Dersky scooted towards her right and shook her head. "No. Just that I hate you, an' you disgust me."

"An' why is that?"

Dersky turned and stared at Angus. "I saw you. That night. I saw you st…they were dead. Y'know that, right?"

"Of course I do! That's wot made it fun! Hehe, ho-how many did ya kill in Tearmann? Five? Twelve maybe? I got a lot of 'em! I remember chasin' down this one li'l molebabe. He shat hisself y'know—stunk up the whole damn buildin' with his mess! Then I cut his head in half as he ran from me. Hmm…gotta love that smell. Ye c'n always single out the cowards that way!"

"Wot the fuck is wrong with ye?" Dersky snarled.

Angus smiled. "Wot's wrong with _you_?"

"I'm not the one who enjoys killin' children! I'm-I'm not the one who is aroused by cadavers! You think it's enjoyable goin' around slayin' innocent beasts in their beds?"

"If you hate it, why do it?"

"'Cos…'cos orders. That's why."

" _Wrong_. You do it 'cos you _want_ to. You do it 'cos you _do_ like it. The problem with beasts like you is that you don't _like_ that you like it. But I do. That's why I'm not sittin' on this branch wonderin' if I'm a horrible beast or not."

Angus started to grin. "I know wot I am. I don't fight it. I just have fun!"

Dersky nodded and sucked on her teeth. "Fun, huh?"

"That's right. _Fun_."

"You—" Dersky shut her eyes and pinched the bridge of her muzzle. "Yore not some proper beast, Angus. You're a wild, voracious _dog_. You have no morals, no honour, no sympathy. All you care about it yoreself, how _you_ can have fun, how _you_ can make _yore_ self feel better. All you do is eat. Then all you do is shit everywhere, and you go around showin' off yer shit to everybeast you can find, thinkin' they'll be proud of wot you've done. But nobeast is proud. We all look at you with disgust. Yore lost, Angus. Yore a lost dog who wants a new master, but everytime you find one, you just eat him or her too. So you wander around the world lookin' fer somethin' to do, but in the end, all yer gonna do…is eat and shit. Then yer gonna keel over and die alone, knowin' you wasted yer whole fuckin' life doin' nothin' but eatin'."

Dersky blinked and snorted at Angus before she turned away scowling. Angus simply stared at the weasel, speechless, dumbfounded almost. He didn't have any kind of witty comeback or snide remark. He blinked and sniffed once, realizing now that there was no way he could continue working with Dersky. He thought the weasel's words would faze him, but what did she know? What did any of them know? Nobeast understood him. They never would. Angus smiled as he chuckled wryly to himself and looked at Dersky's footpaws hanging over the front of the branch.

"How strong are yer legs, Dersky?"

"Wot the fuck do my—"

She didn't have time to yelp as Angus shoved her off the branch. The weasel quickly stood up and started to run towards another tree, just as Dersky fell on top of tarp Captain Becker and Lieutenant Hollis were standing under.

* * *

Perfect. Nobeast around. Nobeast to interfere. It was just him, the darkness, and his prey. Angus started to drool as he observed the brown hare with black blotches all over his fur. The weasel watched as the hare rushed over to a tree heavily damaged from late spring freeze. Angus saw the hare set his lantern down on the ground and heard him groan and swear. Then he turned around and squatted so he could evacuate onto the tree's roots. Angus snickered. This hare is just _dying_ fer me to kill him, he thought.

"Oi, Jadden! You all right?!" somebeast yelled.

Jadden exhaled with relief as he continued to release loose stool onto the tree. "I'm…I'm-I'm fine, Hon! Just give me a minute, wot!"

Angus was already on the ground by now, his body concealed by the thick swamp and the dark night. He pulled out his cutlass and licked his lips as he crept towards the hare.

"Fuckin' shrooms," Jadden groaned as he passed gas and kept going.

Angus waited for a moment as he got his cutlass ready and debated on how he should kill the hare. He thought about slaying him quickly, but after waiting for the past few days, he figured he could torment the hare, even if it was just for a moment. So Angus stepped forward, crunching on some dead twigs and leaves on the ground. Jadden yelped and bashfully looked around the corner of the tree.

"Damn it—I SAID GIVE ME A MINUTE!"

Angus stomped towards the tree just as Jadden began to stand. The moment the hare turned around and stepped out into the open, Angus struck. The weasel swiped his cutlass at the hare's stomach, cutting right through the fur and flesh. Jadden shouted and fell to his knees; he began to pant and wheeze as the blood and fat trickled from the wound. Angus stood in front of the hare and grabbed his ears, then looked down at the soldier with a devious grin.

"Gotcha," he growled.

"Jadden? You done yet?" another hare called out.

Angus lifted his cutlass and held it against Jadden' throat.

"HO—UNGH-AAHH! AR-AARGH!"

Angus struck Jadden in the throat. But instead of decapitating him right then and there, he removed his cutlass and watched as the beast bled out. Jadden gurgled and thrashed his paws around as he tried to reach for his sword or sling. But the hare couldn't keep his paws steady, nor could he defend himself before Angus struck him in the throat again. More blood gushed out of the wound; with all the sounds Jadden was making, Angus thought he was throwing up as well. He listened to the hare gurgle for a few more seconds before he struck him in the neck two more times with the cutlass, cutting through the rest of the bone and meat. The fifth and final strike finished Jadden for good, and Angus promptly removed the beast's head while the corpse remained still as the warm blood oozed down the body.

"Tike, did Jadden split off and go with you?"

"No, I haven't seen…wait, wot's that?"

"Jadden!"

Angus kicked Jadden's headless corpse down while he kept the hare's head to himself. He scampered behind a tree and waited until the other soldiers found his corpse. He heard the hares as they stopped running and began to observe Jadden's body.

"Fuck—he's dead!" shouted Honward.

"…Shit. We gotta warn the others now! There could be other vermin around here, wot!"

"Okay! You go…where's his head?"

"Wot?"

"The fuck's—"

Angus sprinted from his hiding spot and attacked Tike first. He grasped the ears of Jadden's severed head and swung it at Tike's head as though it was a ball and chain. Tike shouted and fell as Angus smashed the severed head against his. Hon turned and spotted the weasel, seconds before Angus swung the head against Honward's cheek and knocked him over. The hare grunted as he collapsed to the ground, his head throbbing. Angus started to breathe heavily as he stared at the wounded hare who dropped his weapon.

"Hehehehe…gotcha!"

Angus bashed Hon in the head again, knocking him out alongside Tike. The weasel laughed as he stared at the two unconscious hares. Then he dropped Jadden's skull and crouched down, sighing.

"Hmm…now wot t'do with you two…"


	11. Always

**XXXV**

 **Always**

"I can, I can!"

"Bullshit. You can't even play yer nose right," said the hare.

The other hare sighed. "Why the bloody hell would I wanna play my nose?"

"'Cos it's the only damn thing you can play."

Tike Bonson rubbed his face as he stared at the two hares arguing with each other. Honward flicked his eyes between the two hares before he chuckled and walked forward.

"You two are _more_ than welcome to give me the gittern," Hon said.

The third hare held the instrument in both paws and huffed. "Okay…I got it."

The other three hares stared at the beast holding the gut-string instrument in his paws. Honward folded his arms as he waited with anticipation, wondering if the creature would be able to pull it off properly. Tike looked all around the chamber, glad that nobeast was about to witness the hare's awful attempt at playing the gittern. Honward started to grin widely the moment the hare placed his fingers on the strings. He strummed them once before Honward decided to open his mouth.

"Yer doin' it wrong, Grenny."

"I'm—"

"No, you gotta—"

"FINE, FUCK IT! HERE!"

Grenny shoved the gittern in the hare's face before he stomped towards the wall and folded his arms. Grenny muttered a few swear words before he sat down on the floor and scowled at the other three hares.

"Awww, don't be all pissy!" Honward teased.

"No! Fuck you—you wanna bitch about my fuckin' skills? Then you play that shit, wot!"

Honward shrugged. "All right."

The hare held the gittern properly and sat down beside Lesgal while Tike continued to stand in the center of the chamber. Honward looked up at the young hare and flared his nostrils.

"You know wot you wanna sing?"

"Yeah, mate! Just make sure you strum it right; I know wot t'do."

Honward looked down at the gittern for a moment and sniffed. Then the hare held the small instrument firmly and started strumming the strings in a quick and simple pattern. Grenny was still sitting down with his arms folded and a large scowl on his face. Lesgal looked at the beast's pitiful face and snickered while Tike ignored all the other hares and started moving his head to the beat as the words came about.

"You gonna sing 'bout bein' a pansy, Tike?" Grenny teased.

Tike grinned. "Don't be jealous you sound like a toad croakin' when you sing."

Grenny stuck his tongue out at Tike while the hare chuckled and finally got started.

"Climbed out the fire, but turned into ash

Built a boat with me paws; all it did was crash

Stuck in the sun behind an arsehole

Just another great day with the Long Patrol!

Tried to catch a fish, but it slipped away

Was gonna make a fire, but too cold today

Stuck in this army with no form o' droll

Just another great day with the Long Patrol!

Lost a friend today; didn't say goodbye

But I kept on moving; no time to cry

Stuck in the cold with a frozen soul

Just another great day with the Long Patrol!

Couldn't find any cunt so I rubbed one out

Stubbed me toe on a tree; I started to shout

Stuck in this filth with stink hangin' from me pits.

The Long Patrol: smells worse'n badger shits!

Tried t'hang m'self, but the rope snapped and broke

How great it woulda been, just to lie still an' choke

Day after day, our lives get worse

The Long Patrol: it's a fuckin' curse!"

Tike blinked and paused for a moment. He kept bobbing his head as Honward played the gittern, and Lesgal and Grenny continued to stare at the hare, waiting for him to finish. The young corporal chuckled softly and started to smile.

"Climbed out the fire, but I bared a new scar

Was lost at sea, but saw boats afar

Got blisters on me footpaws, but kept movin' along

The Long Patrol: filled with memories and song!

'It's gonna get better,' 'tis wot they say

In the Long Patrol, we save the day

We fight for justice and peace and treats

The Long Patrol: sometimes it can be sweet!

Losing a mate is always rough

But the Long Patrol makes you tough

No need to mourn; you shouldn't be crying

With the Long Patrol, you shan't fear dying!

The Long Patrol: it's no fun and games.

Nobeast said this army was tame

Has a murderous, vengeful, twisted style

But in the end…it's all worthwhile."

Honward strummed the strings of the gittern a few more times before he stopped playing altogether. As the hare finished, Tike smirked as he placed a paw on his chest and bowed. Lesgal and Grenny started clapping and whooping, cheering at the hare after hearing the beast's meaningful song about the battalion. After Tike finished bowing in front of his friends, he and Honward exchanged looks at each other and smiled, glad that they decided to be a part of Urthquake's crew.

* * *

It was never a good sign to wake up with blurry vision and a throbbing head. For a moment, Tike thought he got so inebriated that he passed out and bonked his head on a tree. But as the hare's vision cleared, he could see the weasel pacing back and forth on the muddy soil as he muttered to himself. Tike let out a muffled grunt and scowled at the foul taste in his mouth: a dirty cloth or some kind of bandanna. The hare blinked twice and tried to move. He tried to jerk his paws around, but when he moved them, he heard a branch creak and felt restraints digging into his wrists. Tike mumbled and looked up to see that his arms were stretched upwards above his head, and that somebeast had tied his paws to one of the sturdy branches from the tree still leafless from late spring freeze. The young corporal started to breathe heavily out his nose and glared up ahead. Honward was tied to a tree as well and stuck in the same uncomfortable position he was in. He was still unconscious and bleeding from his head. Tike grunted and jerked his paws around again, hoping to break the branch if he applied enough force to it.

"Oh, the li'l soldier is finally awake!"

Tike looked down at the weasel and stopped moving. He scowled and swore at the beast as the vermin reached up and removed the filthy gag from his mouth. Tike exhaled and opened his mouth.

"HEL—"

The hare's eyes grew wide when he felt the cold steel pressed against his abdomen. Tike looked down at the weasel as he grinned.

"A simple laceration. That's all it'll take fer me to open up yer belly, have all ye guts splayed on the ground fer yer friend t'see! Now, you are more'n welcome t'scream for help, but I assure you: you'll be dead _long_ before anybeast comes to aid ya!"

Tike stared at the weasel's wide grin as he showed off his yellow teeth. He blinked and exhaled harshly, and the weasel took his knife away and nodded.

"Good! Now let's wake up yer friend over there!"

Tike watched as the weasel turned and headed over to Honward. The vermin reached up and smacked Honward across the face; the sergeant inhaled and grunted as he opened his eyes. Tike gritted his teeth as he kept grinding his paws against the branch, hoping that the ropes or the branch would gradually start to give.

"Yes, that's it! Shake off that wound—you'll live! For a moment anyway."

Tike swore softly and stopped moving his paws. He exhaled and stared at the scruffy weasel as he started to slowly pace between both beasts.

"The hell is this? Some kinda sick interrogation?"

The weasel shook his head. "I care little for wot your Long Patrol is up to."

"So…s-so wot? You gonna take turns rapin' us?"

"Not at all…jus' gonna have a li'l fun is all."

The weasel started to toss one of his knives in the air as he stood in-between the two hares. Tike flared his nostrils and started looking around the area, thinking some kind of weapon or tool was nearby that he could use to cut through his restraints. The vermin laughed.

"Isn't it funny?"

Tike snorted. "Wot?"

"I wandered into this swamp in the middle of the night. I mean, this be a big swamp an' all, but there's only one of me, an' dozens of you! Hehe, somehow— _somehow_ , I managed to hack yer mate's head off and knock out the two of you without anybeast hearin'. Then, _somehow_ , I managed to find some rope, tie the two of you to these trees, stripped ye of all yer weapons, an' now I'm holdin' you both as me hostages."

The weasel laughed and shook his head. "How fuckin' unlucky are you two? I mean seriously—wot are the fuckin' odds of this whole thing playin' in my favour?!"

Tike closed his eyes and snorted again. After the weasel laughed for a brief moment, he sniffled and rubbed his nose.

"Shit, haven't even told you my name yet—where are my manners? I'm Angus Renhym!"

"That maniacal mercenary from the war?"

Angus grinned. "In the flesh!"

Tike sighed. "Save yerself the pain: run away. You can't even _begin_ to imagine wot Urthquake will do t'you once he finds ya."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but _you're_ the beast tied up, are you not?"

Tike changed the subject. "You ain't gonna kill us. If you were, we'd be dead already, wouldn't we?"

Angus nodded and stopped tossing his blade. "True, true…I'm not going to kill both of you."

Tike closed his eyes and sighed with relief while Honward mumbled through his gag. From the way he was scowling at Angus, Tike figured he was swearing at the beast. The weasel turned and looked at the hares before pointing at both of them.

"I'm going to kill _one_ of you."

Shit, thought Tike. This can't be good.

"So…s—um, how will you decide?"

"That is _entirely_ up to you and him! Tell me why I should let you live! Or, perhaps, you can tell me why I should kill your friend."

Angus walked up to the young corporal and poked him in the abdomen with his knife, drawing blood. Tike started to pant and gulped hard.

"You go first."

* * *

Tike and Honward were sitting together in the kitchen peeling potatoes. The younger hare huffed as he slowly removed the brown peel with his knife, and then tossed the bare potato into one of the bowls in front of him.

"There…eighty. How many more we got left?"

Honward turned around and looked behind him. He frowned. There were enough potatoes lying in the corner to be buried under.

"A lot."

Tike whimpered. "This ain't even our fault, wot! Fuckin' Grenny an' his fuckin' mouth—he knows damn well we wouldn't say that about Lieutenant Morson!"

"We were thinkin' it."

"But we didn't say it behind his back!"

Hon smirked. "We were still thinkin' it."

" _Everybeast_ thinks Lieutenant Morson is an arsehole with a rapier thrust up his bum! Why are we the only beasts who got punished for it?!"

"Hey, at least we don't gotta wash everybeast's uniforms like Lesgal an' Grenny. D'you know how hard it is t'get blood stains outta their coats?"

Tike huffed. "Yes…sometimes it don't come out."

The hares went silent for a moment and resumed peeling the skins off the potatoes. After a moment, Honward cleared his throat and glanced at Tike.

"So. Talk to Stink Mouth recently?"

"No. We haven't had any sessions."

"Why not?"

"Err, Stink Mouth is somebeast I kinda _don't_ wanna talk to, fer obvious reasons."

"Wot? C'mon now—he's one of the sweetest hares in this unit, wot! Beast walks into a room an' everything turns into sunshine an' rainbows!"

"We call him 'Stink Mouth' for a reason, Hon. Think that says enough."

Honward chuckled. "Okay, awright, I get it. I'm jus' concerned is all. You've been kinda sullen lately."

Tike didn't respond. He looked down at the potato in his paw and continued to peel it. Honward frowned as he stared at his best friend. He stopped peeling his potato and sniffed.

"Well…you don't need a professional. You can always talk t'me."

"It's nothing. I'm just…"

Tike ran his knife against the potato four times before he stopped and stared at the half-brown, half-beige vegetable. The hare lowered the potato and knife and sighed.

"I, um…I stroked m'self last night."

Honward stared at Tike for a moment before he raised an eyebrow. "Buddy, we rub it out all the time. Why the hell does that bother you?"

"Before I started goin', I saw another corporal sleeping on the ground, away from the others. She was jus' lyin' there, completely unaware. And her legs—her legs were kinda spread apart. Spread _wide_ apart, Honward. I stopped and stared. I didn't-I don't know how long I was standing there. All I remember was that I was startin' to get stiff. And…and I thought, 'She's asleep…she's prob'ly cold. I could just…sleep beside her. Cuddle with her a bit; keep her warm. She won't mind.' And then I started gettin' stiffer. For-for a moment, I was thinkin', 'Y'know…maybe I'll roll on top of her. By accident. She…she won't mind…'"

Tike stopped talking. He stared at the floor for what seemed like an eternity. All Honward and Tike could hear were the other soldiers in the mountain stomping around or maintaining the defenses of Urthquake's grand lair. Tike took a deep breath and started to shake.

"I-I had to walk away. I jus' walked away an' thought…and then…"

Honward sighed. "It was just a thought, mate. We've all had—"

"But that's never happened before. _Ever_. I-I'm always…it's like my heart is sayin' it's wrong, but my brain is sayin, 'Do it. You ain't had fresh cunt in seasons. Nobeast will care. Nobeast has t'know.' And…and you know I could get away with it. I could lie. Urthquake would look the other way. All I'd have t'do—"

"Temptation," Honward interrupted. "S'all it was buddy. The li'l demon on yer shoulder was whisperin' in yer ear again. Happens to all of us."

"Hon, nothin' _that_ despicable has ever crept into my mind before. How could—"

"Did you do it?"

"Wot?"

"Did you force yourself into that hare?"

Tike shook his head. "No. …I almost did, but no."

Honward looked at Tike and smiled. "Exactly. You had the opportunity to do it, and you chose not to."

Tike blinked twice and rubbed one of his watery eyes whilst Honward patted the young corporal on the back.

"You're gonna be okay, buddy. Just try not to think too much on it."

The hare stared at Honward as the beast went back to peeling his potato. Then Tike smiled slightly and resumed cutting his half-peeled potato too.

* * *

Angus stared at Tike with a bored scowl on his face. He blinked.

"Really? I'm s'posed to spare ya 'cos you chose _not_ t'force yer cock into some hare's wet cunt?"

Tike stuttered. "You don't understand. I wanted—"

"'Oh, waaaah, waaah, WAH! I'm a young hare with a ragin' hard cock an' I can't bring m'self to have a li'l fun when somebeast's cunt is placed right in front o' me!' Tch, can't stand beasts like you."

"Wot the fuck do you—MMPH! FMPHM-YUMPH!"

Tike kept mumbling after the weasel placed the gag back inside his mouth. The hare looked down at the weasel in disgust as the beast turned and stomped towards Honward. Then he reached up and yanked Hon's gag out his maw, at which point the hare spat in Angus' face. Angus shut his eyes for a moment as he felt the warm slobber sitting on his muzzle. He smiled slightly and wiped the spit off before opening his eyes.

"I already know I'm gonna like you!"

"Fuck you. All you vermin are fuckin' cowards—you've no problem tauntin' us an' makin' us feel weak when we're immobile and incapable of fightin' back. Why dont'cha untie us? Then we'll see which one of us is the coward."

"Ooh, you got a fire brewin' deep in ya, not like that twat over there! But it makes me wonder…if I spare ya, wot good will that do me?"

Honward grunted as he felt a sharp pain in his midriff. Tike started swearing and shouting in a muffled tone. He whimpered a few times and started kicking forward, listening to the branch above him crack. Honward opened his mouth and moaned as Angus gradually dug his knife deeper into his flesh. The weasel removed the blade and licked it clean, while Honward started to breathe heavily.

"Now…are _you_ capable of convincing me, or shall I start removin' your organs?"

* * *

Honward and the other beast shoved the hares to the ground. The newly-promoted sergeant sniffled as he kicked the leader of the hares forward, the beast bound and gagged. Urthquake looked down at the small group of hares and snorted.

"Did you find other beasts?"

"No, m'lord. Just these three as far as we can tell," Honward responded.

"And you're absolutely _sure_ you didn't see other hares with them?"

Grenny snickered. "Sah, these blokes were practically shittin' themselves when we caught 'em, wot! Think they're already aware of wot yer gonna do to 'em—no wonder so few of 'em defected!"

Urthquake nodded. "Fine then. I don't suppose any of you would like to explain yourselves?"

The trio on their knees all breathed softly and stared at the ground. None of them looked up at the Badger Lord, nor did they beg for mercy. Honward stared at the leader of the bunch and kicked him down on his face.

"Take him first. He's got a big mouth on him—won't take him long before he squeals."

Urthquake growled gutturally as he looked at the turncoat. Then he reached down and grabbed the beast by his ears, hoisting him off the ground. The hare shouted in a muffled tone and started to thrash his legs around, but the badger still refused to show mercy. He looked down at Honward and Grenny before glancing over at the two hares on their knees.

"Stay here while I interrogate this traitor. I shouldn't be too long."

"Wotcha want us t'do with these two until then?" Grenny asked.

The badger shrugged. "Up to you."

The Badger Lord turned around and walked away from the group of hares, whilst Grenny and Honward looked down at their captives and sniffed. Grenny started to circle around the hares like a predator; Honward sat down beside a log and laid his sabre on the ground.

"Hey…yeah, thought you were familiar! Clarissa Pengart—you were that corporal who couldn't stop humpin' yer captain's leg!"

Honward watched as Grenny crouched down and grinned in Clarissa's face. "Heard ya got some…condition, Claris. Apparently yer prone ta spreadin' your legs around other hares, wot!"

"Let it go, Gren," Honward growled.

"Oi, you heard wot the Badger Lord said! We can do wotever we want with these traitors!"

Grenny moved behind Clarissa and kicked her in the back of her head. As the hare groaned, Grenny laughed deeply and looked at the hare's backside. He crouched down again and lifted her tail so he could get a better view of her tailhole. The soldier blinked and leaned forward, taking in the faint scent of Clarissa's musk.

"Wotcha think, Hon? Arse or cunt?"

Honward groaned and rolled his eyes. "Cunt. I don't care—jus' hurry up and go, 'fore I change my mind an' try to stop you."

The other hare on his knees looked at Honward and Grenny with disgust and swore at them through his gag. Honward stood up and removed the filthy cloth from his mouth. The hare wearing a green coat looked up at Honward and scowled at him.

"Cowards. All you mindless twats sicken me. How can—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, wotever mate!" shouted Gren.

Honward and the green-coated hare watched as Grenny grabbed Clarissa by the ears and started to drag her away. Clarissa started to scream through her gag, kicking at the ground and shaking her head.

"Don't you worry, Hon! I won't rough her up too badly if'n ya want a go at her later!"

Honward waited until the two creatures were out of their line of sight before he looked down at the last hare still tied up. The traitor took a few deep breaths as he stared at the ground.

"I know you. I know that other hare too. Yer better than this. You _know_ you are."

"Shut up," said Hon.

"You trained under Morson, yeah? Hmph…thought he would've disciplined you all better. But, then again, Morson was trained under somebeast who I'm sure was trained under Urthquake. Guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"You've no fuckin' right to judge us. You helped those vermin sneak into Salamandastron; they almost killed our Badger Lord in his sleep!"

"No. They almost killed a tyrant in his sleep. A true Badger Lord would never sanction any of _this_ to happen! Rapin' yer own allies just 'cause they chose a different path? Slaying entire farms and villages of vermin jus' 'cause a giant badger said so? How many times has he raped a rat and told you that he was 'interrogating' her? How many times—"

Honward snarled as he punched the traitor in the mouth so hard he nearly dislocated his jaw. "I said shut up! It doesn't matter wot Urthquake does now—everything…everything is for a good cause. He's-he's tryin' to build a better future, and beasts like you are gettin' in the way of that. At least vermin have the guts t'admit wot they're doin' is wrong an' evil! But traitors like you are blinded by yer own sick fantasy, yer own version of a 'better world.' I bet you don't even care about justice. You just wanted Urthquake out the way so you could be the next ruler."

The hare on his knees laughed. "Are you fuckin' serious? A hare can't become a _Badger_ Lord, you fuckin' dilettante! That-that badger keeps saying he wants peace—how the fuck can he achieve peace if his primary action is to declare war with vermin and to commit genocide?!"

"How can _you_ achieve peace when yer primary action is to rebel against anybeast you don't agree with? Wot happens when we finally get the peace we deserve, but you don't wanna follow the peace-keeper's rules? You gonna try to kill him next?"

The hare looked away from Honward and blinked. "You just don't get it. None of you ever will…he didn't just blind you. He took yer eyes away. Now you _can't_ see the truth even if you wanted to."

Honward huffed and walked over to the log. He picked up his sabre and headed back over to the hare. The traitor flicked his eyes to the left and saw part of Hon's sword in the corner of his eye.

"Look at me."

"Wot?"

"You stand here and look at me. You don't get the right to stand there an' call me a coward when you can't even slay me without lookin' at my face.

Honward grimaced and listened to the traitor. He gripped the handle of his sabre and looked down at the beast; the traitor looked up at Honward simultaneously. The two beasts stared for a while as Hon started to contemplate, debating on whether or not he should free the traitor or cut his throat open.

"The Badger Lord said we could do wot we want with you. An' I doubt you've much useful information to give us."

"I already told you wot you need to know. You wanna kill me an' follow that badger, go ahead. But sooner or later, he's gonna drag you an' all these other hares to the Hellgates with him. Is that wot you want?"

Honward closed his eyes. "All I want is peace…"

"Then kill that Badger Lord. I know. I know it'll be hard…but sometimes you gotta make the hard choices in order to have peace. Sometimes you gotta make sacrifices to save the beasts you love."

The sergeant nodded. "You're right."

Honward ran his sabre against the traitor's throat. He watched as the hare gagged and gurgled, choking on his own blood as it ran down his chest. He only managed to emit a few gurgles before he collapsed onto his side and stopped moving. Honward looked down at the dead hare and scowled before he spat on his corpse. Then he walked back over to the log and sat down, waiting impatiently for Grenny to return. As he sat still, he could hear grunting, moaning, and even some muffled screams in the distance. The sergeant slowly placed his sabre on the ground and swallowed hard. Then he curled his ears downwards and covered them, his eyes welling with tears as he tried to ignore what Grenny was doing to the corporal.

* * *

Angus couldn't stop laughing at Honward, whereas Tike was staring at the creature with disbelief. Honward closed his eyes and shook his head.

"I told myself it was wrong…I knew. I just let it happen. It was…it was easier that way."

"Good, good—that's very good! I'm startin' ta like you already!" Angus shouted. "Such a blind hare, refusin' to do the 'right' thing 'cos his leader told him not to! Yes…I like you _very_ much. But I wonder now, how could somebeast like you be friends with that whiny bitch over there?"

"You've never had friends, have you?"

Angus shrugged. "Don't need 'em. Don't want 'em."

"Then you don't get it. Havin' a mate like Tike is…it's like havin' another brother. Don't matter how much we fight, don't matter how often we bicker or disagree about wot we do. We still care about each other, despite all our differences. …We still love each other."

"Oh. So you two are fags."

Hon huffed. "It's not like that."

"You just said you two love each other."

"It's not like _that_. Didn't you have an older brother—somebeast you looked up to?"

"Yer talkin' to a weasel who killed his own parents when he were just a babe."

"Then you don't get it. You never will."

Angus snorted and frowned. "I'm wastin' my time with you."

The weasel reached over and stuffed the gag back into the sergeant's mouth. As Honward mumbled and kept plotting on how to escape, Tike looked down at the weasel as he approached him.

"Now you… _you_ I can prob'ly get to! I saw the way you glared at him. I can see it in your eyes right now. You had no idea yer so-called 'friend' committed those awful atrocities, did you?"

Angus removed the gag from Tike's mouth. The young hare glared at Honward again. He kept staring at the creature with watery eyes as he contemplated whether or not he could continue trusting the beast. Angus poked Tike in the stomach with his knife and growled.

"Did you?"

"…No," said Tike softly.

"Ahhh. You say that now, but deep down, I bet you knew that your friend was capable of this all along. I'm sure that wasn't the first time yer 'friend' did something like that, was it?"

Tike couldn't answer. He turned his head away from the weasel and shut his eyes. Then the young hare winced when Angus slashed him across the arm. He growled at Tike as hot air erupted from his nostrils.

"Look at me," he snarled. "Tell me. Tell me wot he did. Who knows? Maybe I'll spare the both of ya, let the two of you live long enough to realize that there's no such thing as true friendship."

Tike sighed. "Fine then."

* * *

The young corporal stared at the door while everybeast else waited outside, all carrying swords or bows and arrows. Even the mighty Badger Lord was standing near the top of the staircase, snorting heavily and gripping his broadsword.

"Everybeast, jus' stand down. I can talk to her," Tike pleaded.

"That traitor's got three hostages in there; one of 'em's your best mate. You really wanna take that chance?" Morson asked.

"Where's she gonna go, Lieutenant? She's trapped in this mountain; she's trapped in that room. We got her cornered. Just…just let me talk to her. Nobeast has t'die today. I can get her out."

"Hmph! You still can't even hold a crossbow properly! You expect me to believe—"

"Morson," Urthquake growled. "If he wants to go in, let him."

Tike nodded and lowered his paws. "Jus' give me a few minutes. I'll get her to come out."

The corporal slyly approached the door and pushed it open. He slowly showed his bare paws inside the room as he slowly opened the door further and stepped inside. The corporal slammed the door shut before anybeast could get a shot off and looked around. Clarissa was there, still sniffling and holding the crossbow. Honward and Lesgal were sitting on the floor with their paws tied behind their backs and a gag in their mouth. Tike wasn't sure what happened to Grenny, but the beast was lying on the floor with a pool of blood around his crotch. The corporal couldn't tell if he was unconscious or dead.

"Sit down! Ov-over there!" Clarissa whimpered.

"Okay. Relax," Tike said in a soft voice.

The corporal sat down against the wall beside Lesgal and looked at the other young hare. "This doesn't have to end like this."

"Yes…yes, it does. Don't you get it? They-they branded me as a traitor! Same thing they did with my sergeant; same as my partner!"

"The three of you put us all at risk. You tried to have our Badger Lord assassinated—by usin' vermin, no less."

"So wot?! He fuckin'—SIT DOWN!"

Honward sat back down after Clarissa pointed her crossbow at him. She whimpered.

"Alla you know he deserves it…he shouldn't be allowed to run this army! It's his fuckin' fault things are the way they are now!"

"Urthquake did not fill this world with evil. He did not give birth to all these vermin who hate us goodbeasts so much."

"No…no, but-but he's spreadin' it! He's makin' it worse! None of you c'n see it; he's been corrupted by this…this lifestyle! He doesn't know right from wrong anymore, an' now none of you do either!"

Tike lowered his right paw and pointed at the door. "There's a dozen soldiers out there who wanna kill you. They wanted to storm in here an' run you through with their weapons. The only reason why yer still alive is because I convinced them not to!"

"Congratu-fuckin'-lations. You did _one_ good deed today."

Tike started to stand up. Clarissa pointed her crossbow at the beast and gritted her teeth.

"SIT DOWN, TIKE!"

"No."

Clarissa blinked. "Wot?"

"You don't wanna kill me. You know you don't wanna do any of this."

"I _have_ to. Urthquake gave me no choice! Urthquake—"

"Your sergeant is the one who lead you. He-he's the beast who corrupted your mind, made you think like this! Do you honestly think that slaying Urthquake will make things better for this army, for the rest of the world? The moment the beasts we've been fightin' find out that Urthquake's been killed—by his own soldiers, no less—it'll be open season, wot! Every pirate and lizard and wretched warlord and who knows who else will attack this mountain non-stop until we're all dead and this place has been seized! Is that wot you want?!"

"…No. No, but…this can't go on, Tike. We can't keep followin' Urthquake if this is how he acts all the time. He-he has to die, Tike. For all our sakes."

Tike took two steps towards Clarissa and blinked. "When you first came here, you sat and ate yer vittles all by yourself. Then Margine came along, an' you two ate and talked and laughed. Now you're both best friends. When you almost died 'cause those ferrets kidnapped you, threatened to chop you into pieces, Captain Becker was the beast who saved you. He was the one who coddled you when you cried in his arms. And-and when you started havin' nightmares, Stink…Lieutenant Brennly saw you every other day and you two talked about life and yer experience with war, and-and-and you…you got better."

Tike lowered his arms as he stepped closer to the panting Clarissa. He smiled tenderly as his eyes became misty.

"You remember when…when Gaspar spent an entire day in the kitchen just to make all the corporals a giant cake the size of the tables? Heh, and then Becker came in and ate a third of the damn thing. Wot-wot about when you and Jessie would sneak into the archives late at night just so you could read up on the history of this mountain and all the Badger Lords who ruled it? Wot about when I got a bunch of corporals together and we celebrated you finishing your first season of being in the Long Patrol? …Don't you remember any of that?"

Clarissa sobbed quietly as she started to lower her crossbow. As Tike got close to the beast, Honward slowly shifted his body around on the floor towards a broken glass jar.

"Stop it," she whimpered, as her face became wet with tears.

Clarissa's crossbow was so low that it was pointed at the floor now. But Tike didn't snatch the weapon from her paws. He just chuckled and kept talking.

"You can't group us all under one category. We're not all sadists; we're not all savage beasts who crave violence. There are still—there's still plenty of goodbeasts in this army, Claris. There's still beasts who know right from wrong, and you know it. The Long Patrol isn't perfect. Neither is Urthquake. I know that now…but we can't get rid of violence with more violence, now can we? If you want Urthquake to change, you can't go around assassinating beasts and takin' your friends hostage."

Tike reached forward and grabbed the crossbow as Honward picked up a large shard of glass from the floor.

"Look at you, Clarissa," the hare said, as he removed the weapon from Clarissa's paws and tossed it on the floor. "All I did was come in here and talk to you. If you and your sergeant had done the same thing with Urthquake, then maybe…maybe we wouldn't be here right now."

Tike opened his arms and slowly embraced Clarissa. The other hare burst into tears and gradually hugged the corporal back, squeezing Tike Bonson so hard he could barely breathe. The young corporal smiled and placed his chin on Clarissa's shoulder as two tears came out his eyes as well. He could still hear Clarissa sniffling and sobbing, along with Lesgal and Honward grunting as they tried to escape from their restraints. Tike took his head back and sniffled as he opened his eyes. And then he frowned as he looked over Clarissa's shoulder and saw Honward standing behind her scowling. Tike didn't get the chance to warn her before Honward yanked her head backwards with one paw. The next thing Tike knew, a fine mist of warm fluids were splattering against his face, and Clarissa was gurgling so much that it sounded like she was choking. Tike shook his head and wiped some of the blood off before he panted and stared at Honward. He exhaled with relief as he shoved Clarissa to the floor and quickly rushed over to cut through Lesgal's restraints.

"Okay, everybeast! Coast is clear!" Hon shouted.

Urthquake kicked the door in so hard that it nearly fell off the hinges. The giant badger and several hares stormed inside the chamber quickly and looked at Clarissa and Grenny, the former of whom had bled out.

"I think Grenny's still alive. Get him to Hollis, quick!"

Some of the hares recovered Grenny's body and began to carry him out of the chamber while Tike started hyperventilating as he stared at Clarissa's corpse. He whimpered twice as Honward walked beside him and patted him on the shoulder.

"Thanks buddy!"

Tike looked at Hon's smile and gritted his teeth. Then he punched the hare in the muzzle so hard that he cracked one of his teeth and knocked him to the floor. Tike sobbed as he got on top of Honward and punched him again.

"I had her you fucking cocksucker!"

Tike started to punch the beast with each word he spat from his mouth.

"I! FUCKING! HAD! HER!"

Tike sobbed and delivered blow after blow to Hon's face, his knuckles reddening with each hit. Then the hare shrieked after he heard something crack and his paw began to shake on its own. The corporal backed away from Honward and sat down on the floor hard, whimpering as his right paw started bleeding. As Hon lied on the floor on the brink of unconsciousness, Tike shut his eyes and started crying again.

"I had her," he whimpered in-between sobs.

* * *

Angus turned and glared at the other hare. He scoffed and shook his head before turning and looking at Tike again.

"Some 'friend.' Killin' a fellow soldier even _after_ she surrendered? That's appalling. …I should take some pointers from him."

The weasel heard leaves rustling in the distance, followed by a few croaks. Angus tightened his jaw while Tike looked around in the darkness, thinking he'd see another bright light from a lantern. But it was only the three of them.

"I think we're done with the storytelling. Hmm…I'm still indecisive though! Which one…the bitchy hypocrite who still follows his 'friends' in his vain search for 'peace,' or the abrasive hare who thinks he's doing the right thing, even though he knows damn well wot he's doin' will get him thrown in the Hellgates?"

Angus walked close to Tike and grinned. "How 'bout you choose? Tell me: which one of you should I kill tonight? I'm assuming yer gonna say yourself. After all, you'd sacrifice your life for _anybeast_ who has a shred of 'innocence' in them. That hare over there could murder your parents, rape your mate, and castrate you, and you'd _still_ defend him!"

Tike ignored the weasel's words and looked dead ahead at Honward's eyes. The hares stared at each other for what seemed like hours, constantly thinking about their childhood and the good times they shared as they joined the army. Tike didn't think about Clarissa or how Hon callously murdered her, nor did he think about all the arguments and fights they got into. He blinked and swallowed hard, feeling a lump in his throat as he tried to find something, anything to prevent what was coming. The hare looked up and whimpered as he jerked his paws against the branch in another attempt to break it. Angus spotted what the hare was doing and snarled.

"HEY! Choose! Or I'll kill both of you! And no, you can't say I should be the beast who dies—that's cheatin'. It's either you or him. Those are your _only_ options."

Tike stopped moving. He shut his eyes. There was only one choice he could make now, no matter how hard it seemed.

"You should kill Hon," Tike said quietly.

Angus started wagging his tail merrily. "Wot's that?"

"H-him…you should kill him, not me."

The weasel cackled. "See? You finally agree with me! He ain't worth protectin'; he don't deserve to live!"

"Yes, he does. _You_ don't deserve to live. I always try to find some form of hope in this world…but then I run into beasts like you, and I'm always reminded of why I joined this army in the first place. …You're right. I would sacrifice myself. I want to sacrifice myself for him. But let's face it: that won't give you satisfaction. Beasts like you try to break beasts like me. I could beg you, _plead_ you to kill me, and you still wouldn't do it. You'd go over and kill Honward just to spite me, just to get me to lose all my hope."

Tike looked at Honward as a tear slowly ran down his cheek. "So…go ahead. Kill him. All my life, I've constantly been tested. And no matter wot I've been through, I…I never broke. But maybe this…maybe seeing my best friend die right in front of me will push me too far. Maybe you'll finally break me. …That's wot you want, isn't it?"

Angus growled deeply at Tike and hissed at the hare. "Aren't you a crafty li'l creature? Who knew you were so good at reading other beasts' minds?"

Angus turned around and started to walk towards Honward. Tike gritted his teeth and snarled as more tears came out.

"Go on. Kill him. It doesn't matter wot you do to me. I'll never break. _Ever_."

The weasel huffed and rolled his eyes. He turned back around and stuffed the gag inside Tike's mouth before he walked back over to Hon again. The weasel removed his gag and started to wag his tail.

"Ooooh, lookit that! Not yer best friend after all, is he?! Look at how he betrayed you without batting an eye! He said it himself: I should go ahead and kill you!"

Honward wasn't paying attention to Angus either. He stared at Tike's teary eyes and sniffled. Then he looked down at the weasel's demonic smile and blinked.

"You _should_ kill me."

Angus stepped backwards and frowned. His tail went limp. "Wot?"

Honward nodded slowly. "Yes. I'm not…it's too late for me. This army, this life…I keep telling myself that wot I did—it was for peace…it was for Urthquake. But it wasn't. I've murdered beasts—executed beasts even. This…"

Honward paused. He looked back up at Tike through tearful eyes and began to whine.

"You're so much better than me, Tike," he sobbed. "You always were; you always will be. All those nightmares…I knew this was comin'. I-I knew this would happen eventually. …I won't fight it. If my death means…if it means that Tike gets to live another day, then so be it. This world needs more beasts like you, Tike. …I just make things worse."

Angus stared at Honward in silence as he lowered his head and started crying. He looked over his shoulder and noticed that Tike was crying just as much, with tears wetting his cheeks and mucus running from his nose. The weasel turned back around and let out a confused stutter, shaking his head.

"I don't understand," he said, dumbfounded.

Honward sniffled and blinked a few tears away. "N-no…no, you don't. And you never will."

The weasel walked up to Honward as the hare lifted his head. The two beasts stared at each other's eyes without blinking for a moment.

"You'd really do it? You'd sacrifice your life over…over somebeast like that?"

Honward nodded slowly. "Absolutely."

Angus wiggled his nose as he reached up and wiped some of the tears off the hare's face. He smiled slowly as he rubbed Honward's cheek.

"Such a noble, selfless creature you are. Only a true warrior—a true friend, would put his life in peril like this."

Honward closed his eyes and sighed. Angus lifted the blade and raised it to the hare's throat. The hare waited for Angus to finish it, without even bothering to beg for some form of mercy. Angus started to draw blood, and then he grinned and brought his muzzle close to Hon's face.

"That's exactly why I'm going to kill your friend instead."

Honward's eyes grew wide. "No."

Angus laughed in the hare's face and pointed at his eyes. " _There_. Now _that's_ wot I wanted to see!"

"NO! PLEASE DO—"

Honward's speech was muffled when Angus shoveled the gag back into his maw. The hare was hysterical now, dragging his footpaws along the dirt as he tried to sway around on the branch. Honward swore several times as he yanked his arms repeatedly, stretching them out even further as he attempted to break the branch. While Honward was desperately trying to escape, Tike was whimpering and breathing heavily through his nostrils. Angus walked beside the young hare before he twirled the large knife around in his paws. He chuckled casually as he crept behind the whimpering beast and poked him in the back with the blade.

"Now this is gonna sting a bit…"

Tike closed his eyes and moaned as the tip of the blade was pressed against his back. Then his eyes shot open as the hare felt excruciating pain from behind, as if somebeast was slowly breaking his back in two. Tike squealed as he heard squelching, followed by a few sickening crunches. The hare let out two tiny whimpers, moments before everything was gone. He couldn't feel the pain anymore, nor could he feel the ground beneath his footpaws. Tike wouldn't stop letting out tiny whimpers as his head lolled to the right. Angus removed the blade from Tike's spine and stepped out in front of him.

"Don't worry, I ain't killed 'im! Not yet anyways. Y'see, back in the war, I learned this nifty li'l trick called head-on-a-stick! Quite entertaining if I say so m'self! Sometimes if we wanted to make sure a prisoner didn't escape, we'd stab 'em in the back an' sever their spine. It paralyzes them from the neck down!"

Angus laughed again. "Anyways, your friend here can't move nothin' but his head now. Hence the clever name! But he can still see me. And I'm sure he can still hear as well!"

Tike could hear, even though the voices were faint. He could hear Honward crying hysterically as he ground his paws against the branch. He could see Angus walking towards him, his knife coated in his blood. The weasel pressed a paw against Tike's midriff before poking him with the knife again.

"Keep watching! I wanna know precisely when you see the life fade from his eyes…"

Tike blinked once and let out a tiny, muffled croak. He could hear the weasel as he stuck the knife into his body and started to cut through his flesh.

"Let's see if I can get these kidneys out," Angus murmured to himself.

Tike blinked again as he stared at the ground. He was as motionless as a ragdoll, and his body swayed like one too. The hare wasn't crying or moaning anymore. He just stayed very still and kept staring. For a while, he listened to Honward crying and yelling through his gag. He caught glimpses of Angus as he walked around his body and continued to mutilate him further. But then the voices became distant, and his vision started to blur. A small tear trickled down the side of Tike's face. And then he shut his eyes…

* * *

Tike and Honward were sitting on the beach, staring at the sunset and listening to the waves crashing onto the coast. The young corporal smiled as he looked up and spotted the seagulls crying in the distance. He looked to his left and could see Honward looking down at the sandy earth beneath him. Tike snickered as he nudged the hare and stood up.

"C'mon, let's head back before they scarf all the blueberry pie!"

"…I don't understand. Why are you so…so calm?"

Tike blinked. "Wotcha mean?"

"I killed that hare back there. We ignored each other for nearly a week an' now you're just…fine?"

Tike exhaled. "No, not entirely. I'm still pissed at you, somewhat. But…I know that's not you, Honward. You're not that kinda beast. You made a mistake and I forgive you for it. You expect me to hold a grudge against you for life?"

"I just thought you'd do _something_ to me."

"I beat your arse to the floor after you killed Claris. Remember that. …And like I said, you made a mistake, one I'm sure you won't forget."

Honward stood up and turned around. "Promise me something."

"Wot?"

"Don't let this army change you. I know I'm—I-I know I fucked up. But you're still a goodbeast. You always have been, even after all the shit we've been exposed to. …Maybe it's too late for me. But don't let it be too late for you."

"Hon—"

"Promise me. No matter _wot_ happens."

Tike nodded. "I promise."

Honward closed his eyes and exhaled with relief. He walked over to Tike and wrapped his arms around the young corporal. Tike grunted for a moment, then raised his arms too and gave Honward a big hug.

"Don't worry, Hon. I'll always be here with you."

"Always?"

Tike smiled as he shut his eyes and pressed his head against his chest.

"Always."

* * *

Honward didn't care anymore. He didn't know when Tike succumbed to his wounds. He didn't know when he stopped screaming. All Honward knew was that Angus was still cutting into his friend's body, despite the fact that it was already horrifically disfigured. The weasel removed the knife from Tike's corpse and exhaled as he wiped blood off his face.

"There! Finished!"

Angus turned and walked over to Honward, who was now as lifeless as his best friend.

"D'you enjoy the show? I wasn't sure I'd have enough time, but I finished! As for you…"

Angus crouched down and grunted as he jumped up and latched onto the tree branch. He shimmied his way towards Honward's paws and quickly cut through the rope binding them together. Honward's arms fell down to his side, and the hare quickly sat down beside the tree. He stared ahead blankly, looking at the pool of blood around Tike's footpaws. After the hare was freed, Angus crouched down and snickered at the sergeant.

"I _was_ going to kill you. D'you know that? But I remembered this one beast, religious rat I think. I had just murdered his entire family. His son even. …He wasn't scared. Wasn't angry, wasn't even sad. When I looked into that hare's eyes, I thought about that rat, how he didn't break, no matter wot I did. But you?"

Angus shook his head and grinned. "You were a glass vase somebeast placed on the very edge of the table. And I came along and pushed you. Now look at ya! Yer aaaaaaalllllll broken and on the floor! And there's nobeast around to put you back together."

Honward kept staring. He blinked once, but didn't move. Angus reached forward and flicked the hare on his forehead twice.

"Nothin' to say? No snarky comebacks? No vow of vengeance? Not even a few sobs or-or a moan of anguish perhaps?"

Angus opened up Honward's right paw and placed his knife into it. The knife felt like a heavy brick to the hare; his paw fell right to the ground. The weasel looked at the weapon resting in Hon's paw and snorted.

"You're not even gonna try to kill me when I'm a foot away from you. Damn. Guess I _really_ got to you!"

Angus snatched his knife back and stood up, sighing. "Well, I gotta go now! There's a lot more hares 'round here fer me to kill! May as well feast while my food is still hot. As fer you…my advice? Yer better off. There is no place in this world for beasts like _him_. There's beasts like you, an' beasts like me! The sooner you realize that, and the sooner you begin to accept that you're not a goodbeast, and the sooner you stop lyin' to yourself that you are, the better. Who knows? You can even be my successor if you'd like!"

Honward blinked again and stayed still. Angus kept grinning as he walked backwards into the darkness.

"You have a nice life! Try not to hang yourself over this, will ya?"

Honward couldn't even tell when Angus left. He kept still for a few more minutes, until he heard another pair of footpaws in the distance, along with some familiar voices.

"I think I found 'em," Lillen murmured.

Honward blinked again and kept looking at Tike's body when Lillen and Blitzfur showed up. He ignored the two hares as they started to breathe heavily.

"Fuck…we're too late," Lillen whimpered.

"He's…we-we can't…there's nothin' we can do, Lill. Just…fuck…"

Blitzfur turned away from Hon while Lillen crouched down beside him. But Honward didn't care. All that mattered to him was that his best friend was gone, and he was never coming back.


	12. Gotcha

**XXXVI**

 **Gotcha**

The dark brown hare crouched down in the filth, letting his footpaws sink into the muddy terrain. He listened to the bog as it bubbled quietly, releasing more swamp gas into the air. Lakler set his lantern on the ground and removed his daggers from their sheaths. The hare wiggled his nose and sniffed twice, detecting another strange scent in the air. He crept forward and stared at the ground. The galloper blinked and sniffed again after spotting strange tracks in the mushy earth. Lakler reached down and moved his fingers along the tracks, surprised at how wide the length between the toe-tracks was. The hare's ears twitched when he heard a series of splats in the distance that started to become noisier with each splat. The galloper stood up and quickly rushed behind a tree, still gripping his daggers tightly. He waited patiently, blinking and exhaling, letting his heartrate slow down. The splats resumed, and Lakler heard a faint croaking noise. He peeked around the corner of the tree and saw dull brown eyes glowing just a couple yards away. Lakler waited and listened as more splats filled his ears. Then he turned and looked again.

There was a crude-looking beast standing beside his lantern carrying a trident. The hare stared at the black-spotted amphibian with a yellowish-orange underside and blinked. Lakler shouldn't have been surprised to see a toad in the swamps, but something in his gut told him this wasn't the only toad around. The hare watched as the toad moved his eyes in multiple directions before blinking and standing tall on his webbed feet. The toad picked up the lantern and sniffed it several times before bending down and looking at the tracks on the ground. Lakler gritted his teeth and waited until he turned to his side. Then he charged at the amphibian while crouched and pounced on him. Lakler stabbed and slashed the toad, not giving the beast a chance to use his trident. The toad let out guttural croaks and moans as Lakler stabbed him multiple times, penetrating his rough skin and flesh. The hare swiped both of his daggers at the toad's throat, ripping through his vocal sac. The toad emitted several choking noises and dropped his trident as he walked backwards and collapsed onto his back. Lakler stared at the toad and waited until it let out a soft, gurgling croak in death before he retrieved his lantern and the toad's weapon.

Taking no chances, Lakler walked towards the dead toad and impaled the beast in the head with the trident, just to ensure he wouldn't get back up again. The fetid hare heard more noises around the bog and turned around as he kept quiet. The hare dropped the trident and walked backwards towards the bog, then moved forward again so he could leave more paw-prints in the squishy soil. He turned in a full circle and sniffed again, the scent of another hare briefly wafting into his nostrils. Lakler side-stepped towards one of the moss-covered trees and froze as he waited for the creature to approach. The creature stepped forward slowly and paused; Lakler gritted his teeth as he turned around the tree and pounced on the beast. He shouted as Lakler knocked him into the soil and grinned as he put a dagger against his skull.

"Gettin' sloppy there, Sarn't? Cuida been that Angus fella an' ya throat wuid been slit, wot!"

Lakler chuckled and got off Stanno. The sergeant got on his footpaws and exhaled as he wiped some of the mud and gunk off his tunic.

"Very funny, Lakler. I ain't got time fer jokes; I already got separated from my group! As far as I know they could be dead by now!"

"Yer still livin', aint'cha?"

"Barely. You find that weasel yet?"

Lakler shook his head. "Been trackin' the bastard 'round these parts. Got a guid fixin' on 'im, 'til ah noticed these frog'n toad tracks inna ground. See?"

Lakler pointed towards the large, webbed footprints in the earth before gesturing towards the dead toad. Stanno walked over to the toad with his lantern shining over the cadaver, then crouched down and examined some of the footprints.

"This happened recently?"

"Couple minutes ago, yah."

"Hmm. Well, this _is_ a swamp. Suppose it'd be odd if we didn't run into a few toads here an' there."

"That be the problem, Sarn't. This is a swamp. An' where there's one toad, there's bound tae be several more o' them t'follow. Cannae even pick up Angus' scent no more; all ah been seein' be these webbed tracks. Prolly some lizards 'round 'ere tae."

Stanno stood up and huffed. "Wonderful. We're bein' hunted by a fuckin' mercenary an' we can't even track him 'cos the smell of these lizards and toads is interfering. And it's still pitch-black out here."

"Cheer up, Stanny! Cuid be worse, y'know!"

"How?"

Lakler grinned. "Ah cuid be yore brother."

Stanno looked at the fetid hare and smirked. "Good point."

* * *

Blitzfur and Lillen panted as they carried the wounded and seemingly lifeless sergeant with them. Blitzfur coughed a few times before he banged his footpaw against a fungi-covered boulder and shouted. He let go of Honward, and Lillen grunted as she and the other hare toppled over in the mud. Blitzfur swore loudly before he lifted his footpaw and started to rub it with his paws.

"Motherfuckin'—why the fuck do hard objects exist on the ground?! They're just there to fuck wit' our toes—I'm fuckin' sick of it!"

The corporal got up and exhaled as she wiped herself off. "It's a stubbed toe. Get over it an' help me get Hon up."

The sergeant grumbled and kept rubbing his footpaw. "Leave 'im. He's gonna slow us down anyway—it don't matter."

"Shut up," Lillen snapped, before turning to Honward. "Hon, we gotta go now; we can't stay here. That weasel's still out there!"

Honward didn't say anything. His whiskers moved slightly as he stared at the ground and blinked once. Lillen panted a few times before she shut her eyes and exhaled. Then she squeezed Honward's shoulders as she shifted over and crouched down in front of him.

"I know. I know you're upset, Hon. I know you're in a lotta pain, and I know you jus' wanna lie down and quit. We've all been there; we've all lost somebeast. I'm very sorry that you lost Tike—especially like that. But we have to keep movin'. We can't quit, not after everything we've been through. You and I both know that's not wot Tike would've wanted. So c'mon, Hon. Get up now, 'afore this weasel finds us an' makes sure you join Tike in the afterlife."

Honward blinked again and slowly moved his eyes. He stared at the hare for a moment as his eyes started to water, but he still felt lifeless. Lillen frowned, still hoping that the sergeant would find the will to press on, even after his friend was murdered so brutally. Blitzfur stared at the two hares and scoffed. He shook his head, stomped towards Honward, and smacked him across the face.

"GET YOUR ARSE UP, WOT! We didn't sit 'ere an' train you twats just so you could cry like a li'l bitch over a lost mate! So wot if'n yer friend is dead?! Wot about all the other beasts still alive that are in danger right now?! Wot about all their friends, their brothers an' sisters who might not live t'see another sunrise 'cos you were sittin' here sniffling an' whinin' like a bitch over _one_ dead friend! This army is more important than yer 'precious' feelings; it's more important than just one or two hares! So stop feelin' sorry for yourself an' get up, or we'll throw yer arse into this bog, wot!"

Lillen glared at Blitzfur and started to scowl. Just as the corporal was about to say something, Honward grunted as he got back to his footpaws. He slowly removed his sabre from its sheathe and began to walk forward very sluggishly, his footpaws creating little noise with each step he took. Blitzfur stared at Honward and shoved him forward.

"MOVE YER ARSE, SARN'T!"

"Shut the fuck up, Lieutenant!" Lillen barked.

"There's a reason why yer still a lowly, lowly corporal, Lill. You don't know how to push soldiers hard enough; you wouldn't know how to command 'em! You discipline 'em enough, sooner or later—"

"They'll walk into their own fuckin' grave! Honward walkin' slow is a good thing! It means we won't be makin' so much noise; it means we won't attract as much attention. But lookit you, barkin' orders and screamin' at the top of your lungs like you ain't got no fuckin' sense. Wouldn't be surprised if Angus is hot on our tail right now 'cos of wot you just said!"

Blitzfur stared at the scowling corporal and frowned. "Shit. You're right," he said softly. "Okay…okay, uh, just stay calm—"

"I am calm. You're the beast who looks like he's about to piss himself."

Something cracked in the distance. The three hares froze moments before Lillen dimmed the flame within the lantern. She gestured for Blitzfur and Honward to stay still and walked forward. But the hare only managed to take a few steps before she scrunched up her face and backed away.

"Fwoo! The fuck is that?! Now you know it's wrong to pass gas when somebeast is standing right behind ya, wot!"

Lillen rolled her eyes. "That wasn't me!" Lillen sniffed twice again and blinked. "I'm not sure wot that is honestly. Way too strong to be swamp gas."

Blitzfur sniffed too and groaned. "Yeah. Kinda got a musky tinge to it too. Maybe Angus is nearby?"

"I'm pretty sure he's usin' the odour of the swamp to mask his scent. …It's strange. Haven't smelled anythin' this strong before."

"Could be lizards."

Lillen shook her head. "I doubt that."

"Lakler? Maybe he fell in the bog and didn't clean himself?"

"No."

Blitzfur lifted his right arm and sniffed around his armpit a few times. Then he lowered his arm and grumbled. "Well…I know we haven't bathed in a while…"

"I think I can separate my own stench from somebeast else's. I can't place it; I feel like I've smelled this scent before."

"It's makin' a huge pong, I can tell ya that! Maybe we should travel _away_ from the mysterious malodorous odour?"

Lillen huffed. "You're right. Best we don't find out wot's up there. Follow me, Hon."

Hon stayed still for a moment, but eventually turned around and started to walk alongside Lillen and Blitzfur. The trio hurriedly walked away from the odd smell, and did not see the glowing eyes that stared back at them in the distance.

* * *

"You find anybeast else?" Stanno asked.

Lakler shook his head. "Cannae say ah have. Either they separated or Angus got tae 'em."

The two hares continued to move forward, observing the environment and listening carefully to see if the weasel would make a mistake and give away his position. Stanno blinked as he stopped walking and raised his lantern. The fire illuminated a bigger portion of the swamp, but the sergeant saw nothing out the ordinary. Trees and logs were still coated with fungus and hornworts. Stanno spotted stinkhorns sprouting from the roots of a nearby tree, along with the thin layer of algae that was simmering on the surface of the bog. He saw a bubble pop and heard a few faint splashes. The sergeant rubbed his nose and sniffed as he continued to walk forward.

"Find anything yet?" Stanno whispered.

Lakler smacked softly as he chewed on a few edible mushrooms. "Nope. Jus' some brown shrooms lyin' 'round."

"Maybe he—"

Stanno grunted and tripped. He fell face-first in the moist earth and exhaled. Lakler rushed over to the hare just as Stanno stood up and wiped his face off.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Just a root or somethin'."

"'Or sumthin'' is right, wot! Cum lookit this!"

Stanno turned around and stood beside Lakler as he stared at the ground. The sergeant looked down into the mud with wide eyes.

"The hell? Is that a paw-print?"

Lakler crouched down and stared at the gargantuan print that somebeast left in the mud. He grabbed the lantern and held it over the print, blinking and inspecting it carefully. The galloper lowered his paw into the print, surprised that the print itself was larger than his entire paw. He bent over and sniffed a few times as he tried to pick up the scent. Lakler grumbled before he turned and held the lantern over his and Stanno's paw-prints.

"Awright: guid news an' bad news."

"Gimme the bad news first," said Stanno.

"Whoever left these prints must be sum colossal beast." Lakler caressed the print again and grabbed a few strands of fur. "Hmm. Well, it's got fur, so it ain't no scaly beast. There ain't many other furry beasts who c'n leave prints this big."

"Wotcha saying, Lakler? There's a wearet or some wolverine wanderin' about these swamps?"

Lakler shook his head. "This donae even got a vermin scent tae it. Wolverine mebbe, but even then…the prints donae seem accurate. Been a real long time since ah saw a wolverine print."

"So it ain't some giant lizard, it ain't vermin, and it probably ain't a wolverine."

"I doubt it."

"Then wot the hell made these prints?"

Lakler stood up and sighed. "That's wot worries me. If there's somebeast out there who's as vicious an' as large as Urthquake is, then Angus Renhym is gunna be the least o' our concerns."

Stanno shut his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "You said there was good news?"

"Oh, right!" Lakler chuckled. "Clearly these prints are tae big fer a weasel. Least we know Angus ain't stalkin' us, wot!"

Stanno frowned and glared at the hare.

* * *

He was calm. They all were. All the hares had to be in order to trounce their enemy. Dusk walked alongside the Shadows in a crouched position, his paws at his side right next to his throwing knives. Two Shadows were carrying lanterns to illuminate their path, whilst everybeast else was holding their weapons firmly and waiting. Dusk raised a paw, signaling the Shadows to stop. He blinked and sprinted forward a few yards so he could examine the tracks and other markings Angus left in the ground. The dark gray hare picked up the weasel's tracks and looked back at the Shadows. He pointed to the left and nodded. The Crowslayer guided his team forward and instructed one of his hares to hold the lantern above a set of paw-prints left in the grimy earth. Tillus examined them for a moment, then gestured his team to keep moving forward.

"He's gotta be down that way. We'll head forward," he stated.

The Northlander walked up to the Crowslayer and coughed. "Err, sah? Shouldnae we be followin' the tracks? Pretty sure he went _that_ way."

"Precisely. Which is why we're ignorin' his tracks, Errol. We'll let him come to us; no need to walk into any of his traps."

Errol snickered. "Wotsa matta, Tillus? Worried we're gunna git in anotha' Blackheart situation, wot?"

"I know beasts like this. The only way t'defeat 'em is to do the unexpected."

"An' how c'n we kill somebeast unexpectedly when he tends to expect the unexpected?"

"And therein lies the conundrum."

Dusk rejoined his fellow Shadows and the team kept walking forward for a few more minutes. They stopped for a moment after hearing a few croaks in the distance, but the frogs weren't their top priority. Angus Renhym was. The group waited for another brief moment before they resumed their journey. As they walked past a few trees littered with hornworts, the Shadows came across a few mushrooms that were sullied with red fluids. It didn't take the Shadows long before they found a few dead hares lying in the muck, their bodies mutilated with knives and sabres. The Crowslayer flicked his eyes at the bodies, but didn't stop. None of them were Shadows; that was what mattered most. As the group walked down a steady incline and hopped over a moss-covered log, Errol looked up into the trees and grinned. He whistled shrilly, emitting a sudden, sharp noise that made one of the Shadows flinch.

"Wot? I scare ya, Belgart?"

The aging dark brown hare snorted. "Fuck off."

Errol chuckled as he kept walking behind the old hare. He whistled again, and Belgart growled in his throat. The group paused for a moment after hearing a few branches rustling up above. Dusk's ears wiggled as he heard more croaking, followed by a few insects chirping or creating odd clicking noises. Errol whistled again, and Belgart turned and scowled at the hare.

"I fuckin' told—"

"That wasn't me."

Belgart frowned. He looked up into the trees after hearing more branches creaking. Then everybeast heard eerie whispering that echoed throughout the trees as a strong gust of wind made the leaves rustle. The Crowslayer raised a paw and the group stopped. Everybeast waited, gripping the hilt of their sabres or knives, or stretching their bowstrings taut in case somebeast needed to fire. Errol flicked his eyes left and right while Belgart started looking up into the trees again. After another few seconds, the beasts heard a soft thump. The Crowslayer snorted and nodded.

"Form up."

Not a single word was spoken as the hares converged. All eight of them turned around and backed into each other, making sure their backs were touching. The group formed a circle and covered every single viewpoint. As the hares panted, the Crowslayer gestured for his crew to press on. Whenever they moved, the hares would cross their footpaws over and gradually spin so everybeast covered every direction with each step they took. Dusk continued to grimace without saying a word while the Crowslayer kept his ears open. Errol snickered the entire time, believing that he was finally getting to the weasel each time he made noise. The Northlander whistled and heard faint footsteps. He whistled a second time, and the footsteps became louder and heavier. On the third whistle, Errol heard snickering from one of the trees and grinned. He nudged Belgart in the ribs and pointed at one of the tree trunks.

"Don't break away," the Crowslayer commanded.

"Sah, ah'm sure—"

"Wot did I say?"

Errol was about to open his mouth again when a twig snapped. They knew he was close now; they sensed it. Errol pressed his back against the hares again and kept turning as the group moved.

"Getcha…hehehe…gonna getcha…"

Errol gritted his teeth, but he kept his fear to a minimum. The hare heard what he thought was another snap. He turned to his right, and then screamed when a stone bounced off his right eye. The hare collapsed and started screaming and swearing incessantly; the Crowslayer turned and rushed towards the wounded hare. He crouched down so he could take a closer look at Errol as the other hares stared at him with sullen faces.

"FUCK! Cocksucka—mah fuckin' eye! HE GOT MAH EYE!"

Belgart snorted. "Shut up. All yer noise is gonna attract him, wot!"

The Crowslayer held Errol's head still as he examined his damaged eye. The eyeball was red and swelling; Tillus doubted Errol would be able to see through the eye again. He blinked twice as he looked at Belgart. Then the Crowslayer removed one of his knives and snorted.

"Ah-ah cannae see! Ah cannae fuckin' see!"

The Crowslayer blinked. "No. You can't."

The Crowslayer flipped Errol's body over and sliced the hare's Achilles tendon in half. Errol shouted as a stream of blood erupted from his wound and started clawing at the ground. Then the Crowslayer quickly sliced through the hare's other Achilles tendon, rendering his footpaws useless.

"WOT THE FUCK ARE YA DOIN'?!"

Tillus ignored him and gestured for Belgart to return to their group. As they ran away and left Errol immobile in the mud, the Crowslayer grabbed one of the lanterns and set it down beside Errol. The wounded hare panted and whimpered as he took out a dagger and tried to cut the Crowslayer's knee open. But the Crowslayer quickly backed away and left Errol alone. Errol grunted as he tried to stand up. But he couldn't even rise without the agonizing pain making him scream and fall right back down. The Shadow whimpered as he heard a set of footpaws stamping in the mud. Errol removed his sabre from its sheath and lied on his back, just in time to see Angus sprinting for him. Angus snarled as he knocked Errol's sabre out of his paw with his cutlass, and then cut his stomach down the middle. As Errol started to scream and bleed out, the weasel pounced on the hare and snarled. He opened his mouth wide and bit down on his left eye socket, crushing the eyeball until the weasel could taste the warm fluids in his mouth. Errol's screams started to die down as the beast gradually went into shock.

As Angus started to mutilate Errol's body, the Crowslayer blinked and aimed for the weasel's midriff. He blinked and steadied his breathing, letting his nerves calm as his breath left his lungs. Then everybeast heard more croaking and several wet splattering noises. Angus, on instinct, jerked his body around and stood up. And then he shouted as the Crowslayer's arrow found its way into his abdomen, not far from his kidney. The weasel shouted while the Crowslayer gritted his teeth and took out another arrow. But just as he notched the arrow to his bow, a group of toads hopped their way towards Errol's corpse, their wart-covered bodies illuminated by the lantern. Angus removed the arrow from his midriff and limped away, while the Crowslayer and his crew started to move backwards.

"Fall back, fall back!" he cried.

The group of seven hares started to run backwards as the trident-wielding toads burbled and began to attack.

* * *

Colonel Clannin and Sanjoy were alone. The two hares looked around the swamp, blinking and taking short breaths as they listened closely. So many insects were buzzing and so many amphibians were croaking or hopping around that the hares had no idea where Angus could be. Clannin set his lantern down on the ground and exhaled.

"This is fuckin' pointless. We can't see nothin', can't hear nothin'—how are we s'posed to find this weasel?"

Sanjoy shook her head. "I dunno. I just…I just wish this was all over an' done with. Why is it so hard fer our enemies to come out an' face us like proper beasts should?"

Clannin huffed. "'Cos they're all cowards."

Sanjoy whimpered and walked towards Clannin. The colonel turned and grunted as he was suddenly embraced by the other hare. Clannin looked down at Sanjoy with bewilderment as the hare started to sniffle and whine. Clannin blinked twice as he reached over and slowly hugged the hare as well. The leporids stayed still, listening to the wilderness around them and enjoying the tender moment while it lasted. Sanjoy didn't want to let go of Clannin. She knew if she did, she might never get to hold him like this again. Clannin closed his eyes and lowered his head so his chin was on Sanjoy's left shoulder.

"D'you see him yet?" Sanj muttered.

Clannin opened his right eye for a moment and looked around. They were still alone.

"Nothin'."

"Damn. Jus' stay still then; he should come out shortly."

Clannin close his eye again and resumed hugging Sanjoy, whilst the other hare feigned her whimpers and cries. As the hares embraced for a moment longer, they heard more whispers in the distance, along with a few soft splats of mud. Clannin patted the hare on the back a few times before they backed away and smiled at each other.

"We're gonna be fine, Sanj. You know that."

Sanjoy sniffled and wiped her eyes. "I-I know. …Still nothin'?"

Clannin frowned. "Nope."

Clannin and Sanjoy both turned around and faced the opposite direction. Then Clannin sniffled.

"Hmm. Smells like some type of vermin has been goin' _this_ way, wot! Perhaps we should walk in _this_ direction!"

Sanjoy nodded. "Brilliant idea."

The colonels started walking away from the whispers and continued to disregard the muddy splattering sounds behind them.

"Hey, Sanj. Wot's that strange noise?"

Sanjoy shrugged and reached for her rapier. "Dunno. Perhaps we should continue—"

"GOTCHA!"

In the time it took to blink, Clannin grabbed his sabre, spun around, and whacked his sword against Angus' cutlass. Then Sanjoy spun around and thrust her rapier forward, nearly hitting the weasel in his chest. Angus panted and backed away, holding his bleeding torso as he stared at the two colonels.

"Heh…c-clever. Smokin' me out like that with yer false—"

Clannin yelled as he charged forward and swung his sabre at the vermin three times, hoping to chop off his head. Angus parried the first two attacks before he ducked and rolled backwards. Clannin ran towards the weasel again, refusing to let him get away. Angus found himself running backwards and blocking all of Clannin's moves as he and Sanjoy chased after him. The hares started flanking the weasel; Clannin attacked him from the front while Sanjoy ran past the vermin and got behind him. Angus turned around and panted as he swung his cutlass at Sanjoy twice, his sword ringing as it clashed against the colonel's thin weapon. The weasel reached for one of his long daggers and removed it from his waistsash just as Clannin was about the slice his neck in half. The dagger flew from Angus' paw after Clannin smashed his sword against it; the weasel was forced to duck and crouch. He punched Sanjoy in-between the legs and removed another knife from his waistsash. Clannin threw one of his daggers at Angus, hitting the creature in his left shoulder. Angus yowled and fell to the ground when both colonels attacked simultaneously. Angus grabbed one of his knives off the ground and jerked his right paw sideways, stabbing Clannin in his left footpaw.

Clannin shouted and swore as he fell on his bottom; Angus snarled and rolled backwards, then stood up and removed the dagger from his shoulder. The weasel turned and threw his knife at Clannin; the colonel quickly rolled to his left, and the knife landed in the mud. Angus stomped towards Clannin and waved his sword at his face, but the colonel still managed to block his attacks while gritting his teeth. Then Angus turned around and roared as he swung his cutlass in a vertical fashion, nearly cutting Sanjoy right down the middle. Sanjoy panted as she backed away slowly. The hare glanced at Angus' midriff and noticed he had recently been wounded. Sanjoy blinked and grinned, waiting for the right moment. Angus swiped his cutlass at the long-eared beast four times, forcing Sanjoy to back away each time. Then the two beasts stopped and stared, and Angus began to roll his tongue around his mouth. Sanjoy gripped her rapier tightly. And then she flinched when the weasel spat in her left eye, giving Angus enough time to attack.

"FUCK!"

Angus lashed at the hare. Sanjoy shouted and winced as she hopped backwards. The hare landed on the ground and nearly stumbled, her tunic ripped after the weasel lacerated her belly. Sanjoy reacted quickly and spun around. As she moved, she lashed out with her footpaw, kicking the weasel in his arrow wound. Angus swore and faltered as more blood started to trickle down his side. Then Sanjoy stomped towards Angus and ran him through with her rapier. The weasel grunted in pain and gasped as the hare removed her weapon. Angus gritted his teeth and swung his cutlass at her face, knocking her to the ground. The weasel wheezed twice as he bled from both wounds and noticed that Clannin was back on his footpaws and limping towards him. Scowling, Angus turned away and started to jog, his wounds gradually affecting his speed. Clannin tried to run after the beast, but he tripped and landed in more mud. Sanjoy sat up slowly and winced as she felt blood running down her face.

"Fucker," she murmured.

Sanjoy stood up and wrapped an arm around her stomach. Then she walked towards Clannin as the other colonel sat in the mud grasping his wounded footpaw.

"Shit…well, I ain't gonna be runnin' for a while, wot!"

Sanjoy smirked. "Want me to kiss it an' make it all better?"

Clannin looked at the colonel with a large diagonal gash on her face and smiled. Then he lifted his bleeding footpaw up and wiggled his toes.

"If ya don't mind."

Sanjoy smacked Clannin's footpaw away, then reached down and helped the colonel back up. "C'mon, he's wounded and he's bleeding! If we hurry, we can catch him before he kills anybeast else!"

"Sanj, you stuck that needle in his stomach. It's still pitch black out here, an' there's nothin' around he can use to clean or patch his wounds. He won't get far."

"Which is why we should chase after him!"

"No, this is why we should find Urthquake, get—ARGH! Get some more help. Fuckin' footpaw—we're hurt too, Sanj. Don't think that weasel isn't pondering the same thing we are!"

Sanjoy huffed. "I hate when you're right. Okay…the Badger Lord said he was checkin' around that bog. We should be able to find him there."

* * *

The giant badger was enjoying his night as much as everybeast else. The burly beast growled and snorted as he walked around the swamp, leaving his massive paw-prints behind as he walked beside Major Fenson. The major rubbed his eyes and held the lantern around the badger, listening closely for anybeast in case Angus or somebeast else tried to ambush them. The hare looked up at the badger's scowl and cleared his throat.

"So, Urthquake," Fenson started.

"Not now," Urthquake snapped.

"You don't even know wot I'm about to say. You can't just cut me off like that, wot!"

"I know that tone; I've heard it dozens of times before. Now is not the time to talk about how I'm feeling."

"M'lord, I'm just—"

"Concerned. Yes, I've heard that before. Many times, Major. But right now we're hunting a sadistic maniac who could very well pick us all off one by one until the sun comes up. I believe he's a bit more paramount than how I'm 'feeling,' Fenson."

The major exhaled. "Okay, m'lord. We'll talk _later_."

"Good. Now—"

Both beasts stopped talking and turned around after they heard a few twigs snapping and the sound of somebeast panting. Urthquake jogged in the mud for a moment, with the major following after the bulky beast. The blue-striped creature tightened the grip on his axe as hot breath erupted from his mouth. The badger slowed down after recognizing a familiar scent, then stopped.

"Oh…false alarm, Fenson. It's only Lakler and Stanno."

Lakler looked up at the badger and smiled. "Aye. No need tae split us in 'alf wit' that axe o' yores, wot!"

"Did you two find anything?"

"Lakler came across some toads. We found a lotta tracks too, an' they certainly weren't from Angus," said Stanno.

"That doesn't help me very much, now does it?"

"Och, slow down there, sah!" Lakler interjected. "Now no, these werenae no vermin tracks. But they were massive—'bout the size o' yore footpaws, sah. Ah know ye didnae leave 'em, an' the scent 'round there reminded me o' some…ah dunno, wolverine perhaps."

"Did you _see_ a wolverine?"

"Sah, we dunno wot the 'ell's out 'ere. But it's fuckin' big, it ain't no reptile, an' ah doubt it's friendly."

"So what you're saying is that you found some paw-prints to a creature you can't identify that has _nothing_ to do with Angus Renhym, and you're saying I should be worried. Over paw-prints. Nobeast attacked you; nobeast is following you; nobeast left bodies behind. You just saw some fucking paw-prints."

Stanno scowled. "M'lord, excuse me, sah, but give us a fuckin' break. We've been out here for hours and haven't found anything _but_ these prints an' some toads. It's hard to track Angus in a swamp this large—"

"Do I look like I give a shit?!" Urthquake bellowed, as he stepped towards the hares. "Your job is to find this fuckin' weasel, not to wander around here looking at some stupid paw-prints!"

Fenson scowled as he stepped in front of Urthquake and pressed his paws against his armor. "We get it, m'lord. You're frustrated and upset—that does not mean it's their fault we haven't found Angus yet, wot! We might not find him until morning; we just gotta be patient!"

Urthquake was about to open his mouth to speak when the four creatures heard more footsteps in the distance. Everybeast turned and looked to see Clannin and Sanjoy limping towards the bubbling bog.

"M'lord! Urthquake, we found him!" Clannin shouted.

The badger's anger started to dissipate as he stomped towards the colonels. "You did? Where is he?"

Sanjoy panted as she pointed backwards. "Just keep goin' that way. He's wounded; he's not gonna get far. All we gotta do is follow his tracks and the trail of blood he's leavin' behind."

The Badger Lord wasted no time. He started to stomp forward, ready to put an end to the mercenary once and for all.

"Follow me everybeast! That weasel doesn't live past the night!"

"Aye, sah!" shouted Clannin.

As Sanjoy let go of Clannin and the hare began to massage his paw, he looked at Fenson, Lakler, and Stanno and frowned.

"Wot's wrong with you beasts?"

Fenson flicked his eyes at the badger and blinked. "Maybe you should ask him that…"

* * *

Blitzfur and Lillen had to stop after they heard the strange guttural noises up ahead. Honward was sitting down against a tree while the other two beasts started to investigate. Both of them cautiously walked forward as the growls and snarls grew louder and more caustic. Blitzfur held his lantern high as he looked at the ground and saw a few splotches of red mixed in with the brown and green earth.

"Is that blood?" Lillen asked softly.

"Sure as shit don't look like dye," Blitzfur responded.

The hares advanced forward a few more yards until they saw part of a beast leaning against a tree. The duo waited until the beast's entire body was visible in the lantern's light, and then they froze.

"Get-getcha…getcha…jus' one more…o-one…"

Angus Renhym slowly turned and looked at Blitzfur and Lillen with a wide, sloppy grin on his face. The weasel slurped as he held his cutlass and moved forward, his footpaws dragging against the mud.

"Um. This is Angus Renhym?" Blitzfur asked.

"In the fl-flesh! Now c'mere…let me slay you," the weasel said weakly.

Lillen and Blitzfur kept staring at the weasel as he sluggishly moved towards them. Lillen looked at the beast's abdomen and could see both of the wounds he received. He was still bleeding profusely; the blood had dripped down his left leg and resulted in several bloody paw-prints. The lieutenant looked at the scarred weasel and yawned.

"An' here I thought you were somebeast capable of makin' me shit m'self, wot! A fuckin' snail moves faster than you!"

Angus wheezed. "You fuckers got lucky! I…I'm wounded! This-this ain't—this ain't a fair fight!"

Lillen scoffed. "Since when do beasts like you fight fair?"

Blitzfur smiled smugly as he slowly walked towards the weasel with his sabre drawn. The hare stood still and waited for Angus to approach him. When he did, Angus grunted and removed another knife from his waistsash. The lieutenant effortlessly swung his sabre and whacked the weapon out of Angus' paw. Angus grunted and swung his cutlass at Blitzfur, but the weasel was so exhausted that he only made contact with the air. Blitzfur giggled and grabbed Angus' head, then shoved him down to the ground.

"This is fuckin' beautiful, wot! Now I see why you beasts fight dirty! It's so damn amusing!"

Angus snarled at Blitzfur as he gradually got back to his footpaws. But just as the weasel started to stand, he heard more footsteps in the distance. The weasel stood as straight as he could and turned around, only to find Urthquake, Clannin, Fenson, Sanjoy, Stanno, and Lakler all jogging towards him.

"Cut him off! Don't let him escape!" Urthquake shouted.

"I already told you, sah. He's not goin' far!" said Clannin.

Angus stood still and watched as the six beasts approached him and circled around him, giving him no chance of escape. Urthquake was snorting so hard that mucus was practically flying from his large nostrils.

"All the shit you've done," Urthquake snarled. "You don't deserve a quick death. But I'm just sick and tired of seeing beasts like you and those cocky, shit-eating grins on your muzzles."

Angus smirked. "Fine. We'll frown from now on."

Urthquake was just about to lift his axe when Fenson stepped in front of him and put a paw on his chest.

"Hold up, m'lord…he might still be useful. The Red Sand tribe! Wotcha know about 'em?"

Angus dropped his cutlass and flicked his eyes at the hares and the badger surrounding him. "Really? You…y-you think you can interrogate me? Question me?"

Angus shut his eyes as he laughed weakly, his body shaking as more blood dripped from his wounds. He lifted his clothing up and showed off his wounds to the hares.

"I'm already fucked! There ain't nothin' more you c'n do to me! No bargains to give, no threats to make…it's too late fer you."

"At the very fuckin' least, do _one_ good thing in your miserable life," said Clannin.

Angus looked to his left and saw Honward dragging his footpaws through the mud. The beast blinked and grinned as he pointed at the sergeant.

"There…y'see? I-I already have! Lookit how depressed he is! Lookit how-how hopeless he is!"

Honward's ears were down, and the sergeant was staring at the filthy ground he stood on. Some of the hares stared at Honward and frowned.

"The hell's wrong with him?"

"I killed his li'l fuck-buddy! Made sure he watched as I tore his body apart until the poor li'l twat died of shock!"

Blitzfur and Lillen looked away and frowned while the other hares started to lower their weapons.

"Tike's dead?" Stanno asked softly.

Lillen shut her eyes and sniffed. "We, uh…found wot was left of him hangin' from a tree. He killed Jadden too."

Angus looked at all the hares' solemn faces and snorted. "Wotcha twats so upset about?! That-that hare wasn't for this world! He was gonna die sooner or later; you all know that! You…you all look at me like I'm some demon, some monster. But-but-but can't ya see? I'm doin' the _right_ thing here! You creatures _need_ beasts like me!"

Angus snickered as he started drawing circles in the air by spinning his index fingers around. "I balance out the equation! I-I keep everythin' in check! Without beasts like me, this world would fall apart! You'd all—"

"Shut the fuck up," Sanjoy snapped.

The weasel blinked twice and then exhaled as he fell to his knees. "I s'pose yer gonna kill me now. Hmph…that's fine. That's fiiiiiiine by me! Hehe, I lived a great life—a wonderful life! I've spent all these years killin' dozens—hundreds even! I fought in a war, I tore families apart, I burned down villages, tortured beasts for fun…and I was havin' a blast back in Tearmann! All those small babes, screamin' as they fled from me! Y'see…I got to live my life the way I _wanted_ to! I didn't hide wot I was—wot I am! I relished in it!"

Angus grinned as he gazed and pointed at the hares and badger. "You all…you all lie. You _lie_. You pretend that yer goodbeasts, but yer not! Yer all thieves, murderers, rapists—just like me! But you tell yourself, 'Oh, I was following orders! I was angry; I was upset! It's all for a good cause!' _Bullshit_. You do it 'cos you _want_ to. Admit it…ADMIT IT! STOP LYIN'! Stop pretending to be noble beasts; you know it's a lie! IT'S ALL FUCKIN' BULLSHIT!"

Angus giggled in an insane tone as he drooled and started to get teary-eyed. "Be like me…be like me! It's easier! It-it's so much more fun! Just give in; let it take you! Let the darkness swallow you whole! I-I promise you, it's so much better! You-you'll see! You'll understand how—"

Angus groaned when Honward walked up to him and stabbed him in the back. The sergeant looked down at the weasel as he gritted his teeth, his cheeks wet with tears. Honward let out a soft, whimpering moan as he twisted the dagger he thrust into the vermin. Then he removed the weapon and walked backwards so he could watch the weasel bleed out. Stanno, who was also in tears after finding out what happened to Tike, walked up to Angus and slashed him across his head with his sabre. He left a large, gaping wound that was similar to Sanjoy's, albeit much deeper than hers. Blitzfur attacked next; he picked up one of Angus' throwing knives and promptly tossed it into the weasel's back. Fenson circled around the weasel for a moment before he thrust his rapier into Angus' stomach, puncturing his intestines. Angus was moaning, wheezing, and laughing at the same time as more blood dripped from his body. Clannin limped towards Angus and swiped at his ears, chopping one of them in half, and then proceeded to slash the weasel across his chest. Lillen gritted her teeth and snarled as she walked behind the weasel and swiped her sabre at his spine, nearly cutting through the bone. Angus collapsed to the ground and coughed up more blood.

"Fucker's still alive," Sanjoy muttered.

Clannin handed his sabre off to Sanjoy, who smiled and took it from him. As Angus moaned and got back up on his knees, Sanjoy grunted and slashed at the weasel's paws, slicing off some of his fingers. Angus was so close to death that he could hardly feel the pain anymore. He still kept laughing, even as blood gushed from his wounds and tears ran down his face. Lakler shrugged after everybeast had a go at Angus and took out his twin daggers. He drove them both into Angus' chest before he spat in his face and snorted. Angus slowly shut his eyes, just as Urthquake stepped in front of the weasel and folded his arms.

"Hmph…guess I was right. You _don't_ deserve a quick death."

Angus blinked as he looked up at Urthquake's muzzle. The badger snarled as he reached down and grabbed the weasel's head. Using one paw, he dug his fingers into Angus' disgusting mouth and started to stretch out his jaw. With his other paw, Urthquake planted his thick, meaty fingers against Angus' eye sockets. And then he pressed down hard. Angus started to scream as Urthquake gradually crushed his eyeballs and stretched out his mandible so far that the joints started to pop. Urthquake growled viciously as he felt blood oozing from the weasel's eye sockets and soaking all over his fingers. The badger clutched Angus' scalp and squeezed as hard as possible. The weasel's screams began to die down as his skull started to crack under all the pressure. Then Urthquake roared as he squeezed with all his might, causing blood to flow from the weasel's head. Everybeast heard a squelching crunch, as if a pile of bones and flesh were just flattened. Blood erupted from Angus' head and splattered all over Urthquake's armor. At the same time, Urthquake used his other paw to rip Angus' jaw clean off with another popping crunch. The badger threw the mandible in the distance before he lifted Angus off the ground.

He held the vermin's body in mid-air for a moment, letting the warm blood spread all over his paw and fingers. Everybeast but Urthquake grimaced at the sight of Angus' mutilated body, but knew deep down he deserved it. Then the badger released him, and his body clumped to the ground with a hefty squish. The panting badger stared at the creature's corpse before he closed his eyes and let the breath flow from his lungs.

"How many did we lose?" he asked softly.

Fenson shook his head. "It's too soon to tell, m'lord. We'll have to do a sweep of the swamp, collect all the bodies."

Urthquake shut his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "Get on that. Round up all the survivors, let 'em know Angus is dead."

The major nodded. "Of course. Let's go everybeast. We're still not in the clear just yet."

Urthquake took his paw away from his forehead and looked down at Angus' mangled body. He reached down and snatched it up quickly, then turned around and stomped towards the nearest bottomless bog he could find. The second he arrived at the pool of foul-smelling sludge, Urthquake grunted and tossed Angus' body inside. He heard the body splash, followed by several bubbles popping as the corpse sank into the depths. The striped beast exhaled with much relief, glad to know the beast was gone for good.


	13. Slow Down

**XXXVII**

 **Slow Down**

 **A/N: Y'know, there comes a time in life where you're working on a project, or you're doing homework or what have you, and then right after you spent hours working on said project, you look back and tell yourself, "Oh shit. I fucked up big time." And that's where I'm currently at right now.**

 **I think we can all agree that this story is a lot darker than the original** _ **Redwall**_ **series. And a majority of reviewers seem fine with that. But lately, I feel like I've been pushing it way too far—the whole incest reveal with Log-a-Log and Benrath was pretty damn grim, and then Tike died a few chapters later. And Urthquake has been…not pleasant, lately. And there's the whole "a shit-ton of characters keep dying" thing, so…**

 **The point is, I'm going too far, and I need to bring it back, if not stop altogether. Now, no, this series isn't suddenly going to be sunshine and rainbows—this story is dark and that's just how it's gonna be. But at the same time, there's no reason why I can't give the characters time to breathe, time to develop before I kill them off. There's no reason why I can't include characters who have a** _ **happy**_ **backstory. There's no reason why there should be ass-rapings every other chapter or so. Book I was dark, yeah, but at least it had its light-hearted chapters, particularly the Tearmann arc (before the whole invasion happened). But I feel like Book II has no light at the end of the tunnel. Or rather, there** _ **is**_ **a light, but it's smothered with darkness, so no one can see it.**

 **So I'm gonna tone it down for a while. A lot of shit has happened in these past several chapters. I owe it to both the characters** _ **and**_ **the audience to give you all a chance to catch your breath and relax for a change. Starting now.**

* * *

He finally had a chance to sleep. His mind was absent of nightmares and hallucinations of his little brother. There weren't any frightening images of those satanic lizards sodomizing or devouring innocent beasts either. For the first time in the past few weeks, Tegast managed to have a good night rest. That made it all the more irritating when the rat finally woke up, because he couldn't savor the moment, and he had no idea what he dreamt about. All the rat could recall was the group crawling out of that tunnel, and him lying against a giant tree. And now here he was, lying on the ground with one eye open as he felt the sun's rays beaming down through the canopy. Tegast looked around slowly, his vision still blurred and his eyes crusty with sleep. Tegast mumbled as he rubbed his eyes with his fingers and started to sit up. The dirt and leaves rustled as he moved his legs and sat up against the tree. Then the rodent opened his mouth and yawned, stretching out his arms as well. He exhaled and threw his arms down before he smacked his lips twice.

The rat looked around the forest with his eyes half-opened and sniffed. He heard a gruff snorting sound and turned to his right, where he saw Grustur and Darktail sleeping close to each other. The watervole was lying on his back and snorting with his mouth open while Darktail was curled up with his fluffy tail covering part of his face. The rodent stared at the two beasts for a moment and looked around, curious to see where the last beast was. Tegast scratched his head and stood up as he heard a bird chirping and flapping its wings. He spat on the ground and looked at the soil, blinking as he examined a set of paw-prints. The beast reached for his dagger as he followed them, flaring his nostrils when he picked up a shrew's scent. He knew it was probably nothing, but after everything Tegast had went through, he wasn't taking any chances. The rat walked several yards away from Darktail and Grustur, and then stumbled upon an opening in the forest that had several apple and plum trees. Tegast sniffed the air as the fragrant trees overwhelmed his nostrils and nearly made his mouth water. The rat raised an eyebrow when he heard a few crunches and started to look around the trees.

"Catch."

Tegast looked up and yelped. He raised his paws and grabbed a yellow apple just as it was about to bounce off his forehead. The rat looked at the fruit for a moment before he looked back up and saw Benrath sitting on a tree branch with his footpaws hanging down. He hungrily munched on one of the apples before he swallowed hard and climbed down the tree. The chubby shrew grunted as he landed on the ground and walked over to Tegast.

"Sorry. Didn't hit you, did I?"

"No, it's all right; I caught it."

Tegast looked down at his apple and took a huge bite out of it. He crunched on the savory fruit with some juice running down his chin before he started talking with his mouth full.

"Least we can stock up on food here."

"Already did. Found sum' berry bushes 'round 'ere too, plenty o' pecans as well. I already filled one o' the sacks you an' that vole were carryin'. Should be enough."

Benrath pointed at the backpack resting beside one of the plum trees that was almost overflowing with yellow apples and red plums. The rat smiled and wagged his tail before he bit into his apple again.

"That's great! We jus' woke up an' we already got a fresh supple of vittles! Thanks, Ben!"

The shrew shrugged. "Figured I may as well do sumthin' while I'm up."

"Heh. And here I thought _I_ woke up early. When d'you get up?"

Benrath shrugged again. "Never said I slept."

Tegast swallowed hard and stared at Benrath. He noticed the shrew's eyes were nearly bloodshot, and that the shrew was slouching slightly and breathing heavily.

"Oh…right."

Benrath turned around and walked on the soft earth so he could pick up one of the red plums he left on the ground. He wiped some of the dirt off the stone fruit and bit into it before he spoke again.

"Couldn't sleep well. An' me arse were actin' up again. Figured I may as well stay up 'til me system cleared. Found all these trees when I was wanderin' 'round; ate a li'l bit, then gathered up some vittles fer you and the others."

"You always havin' sleepin' issues?"

Benrath rubbed his head. "Somewhat. Jus'…y'know. Haven't been a fan of it."

Tegast raised an eyebrow. "Yer not a 'fan' of sleeping. Wot exactly does that mean?"

"I already told ye about wot…" Benrath swallowed and changed his story. "It's insomnia. Had it fer a while now, that's all. An' with all this other shite goin' on, I'm prolly better off stayin' up all the time."

Tegast snorted. "I know the feelin'. Up until I met Grus, I always thought I'd wake up with some barbarians carryin' me off somewhere. Half the time I tried goin' to sleep, I heard some snake or other reptile followin' me." The rat paused so he could bite into the apple again. "That's how it's always been, it's just harder now with a group this small, let alone with beasts I don't fully trust yet."

Ben sighed once he looked around and noticed the fox and watervole were still nowhere to be found. "We should prolly go ahead an' tell 'em wot we found. Gotta git movin' soon."

Tegast nodded as he chewed on more of the apple and followed the shrew over to where the other two beasts were sleeping. Tegast bent down and shook Grustur a few times while Benrath walked over and kicked Darktail in his sides twice. The watervole grunted and slowly opened his eyes while Darktail mumbled and stayed still.

"Get up. It's mornin' now; we gotta move," Tegast said.

Darktail mumbled in his sleep again and tossed over so he was lying on his back. Tegast and Benrath stared at the sleeping fox while Grustur started to stand up. Tegast walked beside Darktail and looked down at him. Then the rat tossed his half-eaten apple at the fox's scalp. It bounced off his head with a noisy thunk; Darktail's eyes shot open, and the fox shouted as he grabbed his head.

"What—WHAT?! The fuck you twats want?!"

"I told you, it's mornin' now! Get yore arse up; it's time to relocate."

Darktail exhaled as he sat up slowly and rubbed his head. "Fat chance, pup. Case you ain't noticed, we ain't got much vittles with us! Most of our shit was left back in Log-a-Fuck's camp! But feel free t'go back there and procure it. We'll wait here."

"No need to," Ben chimed in as he bit his plum. "I already found some apple an' plum trees due south. Lotta pecans an' berries o'er that way too."

The fox got to his footpaws and wiped some dirt off his trousers. "Good. An' here I thought only your fat arse was useful for something. Lead the way!"

Benrath scowled at the fox after Darktail made the comment about his rump, but he ignored him and led the group towards the series of trees. Everybeast remained quiet and kept a lookout, occasionally looking up into the trees and in the distance to see if they could find any lurking scouts. When the shrew finally stopped and pointed to the loaded sacks, Darktail wagged his tail and rushed over to the one filled with apples and plums. The reddish-brown fox looked inside the sack and fished out an apple before he closed the bag and lifted it up.

"Not too shabby there! This should prob'ly last us a week if we're lucky—or two days if Pup and Fat Arse over here keeps eatin' it all."

"Yore more than welcome to run off an' ask those monitors for more vittles if ya want," Tegast said coolly.

Darktail stared at the rat and eventually set the bag on the ground. "Yes, that's such a brilliant idea. So is cuttin' off my own cock."

Grustur faced the adolescent rat and folded his arms. "So what's the plan now? We fend off the lizards with fresh fruit?"

"Obviously not. We keep moving, try t'find some place where we can make a stand for a while."

"For how long? We can't fend off those reptiles forever."

"Not by ourselves, no. But we're bound to find more stragglers along the way who can help us."

Darktail huffed. "Excellent. More company!"

"Wot the hell else d'you propose we do?"

Darktail grinned. "Wouldn't mind getting some cunt right now."

Grustur lowered his arms. "I'm not a fan of findin' more stray beasts to come tag along with us. But now that the Guosim's after us, we're gonna need to find a place to lay low fer a while. An' I suppose it won't hurt if we have somebeast who's trained in fighting to assist us."

The fox nodded. "Gotcha. So we find a colony filled with beasts. We steal their food, rape 'em, convince 'em to fight for us, then kill 'em. Perfect!"

The other three beasts stared at the fox's cocky smirk with deadpan glares as a bird started to chirp above them. Tegast shook his head and walked past the vulpine, shoving him out the way as he picked up the other sack filled with nuts and berries.

"We should split up an' search for anythin' useful; we'll cover more ground that way."

"NO! Why does _everybeast_ suggest that shit?! We have dozens of shrews an' lizards chasing us and _now_ you want to split up?!"

"Yes. Because it's early in the morning, an' I'm not in the mood for yore snarky bullshit right now. I'll head out with Ben; you two can go out and try to find more weapons we can use."

Darktail flicked his eyes at the watervole and flared his nostrils. "So you're fine takin' orders from a pup who's shorter than you?"

"Well, that pup _did_ say that you were gonna stay with us, like it or not, 'cos you know you're a dead beast on yer own. So I guess yer fine takin' orders from him too."

Grustur smirked at the fox while Darktail scowled and folded his arms. Tegast gestured to his right and looked at Ben.

Let's go, Ben. We'll regroup here later."

"Provided this place isn't overrun by lizards when we get back!"

Tegast and Benrath ignored the jabbering fox and walked away.

* * *

The shrew and rat walked alongside each other through the woods in silence. Tegast enjoyed the tranquil moment as he moved slowly along the dirt, feeling the warm soil and wet grass beneath his footpaws. He listened to his footsteps as he looked around the forest, taking note of the deciduous trees filled with bright and dark green leaves. The rat could see some buttercups blooming in certain spots along the ground, as well as some purple primrose flowers growing within the bushes. The rat smiled as he flared his nostrils, picking up the scent of the fresh wood and flowers; he could even smell the sweet berries that were growing some yards away. Tegast looked behind his shoulder, still smiling. No reptilian tracks, no foul stench of the monitors, no signs of rotting corpses or villages or farms that had been burned down or ransacked. It was just him, Ben, and the harmless insects and birds in the background. Tegast took a deep breath before he turned and faced the shrew.

"Real nice day today!" he said.

Benrath kept looking forward. He flicked his eyes at the rodent before he looked away and blinked. "S'pose so."

"I'm serious. Feelin' real good this mornin', not sure why! Guess I'm in a better mood now that we've made some distance between them nasty lizards! For now, anyways."

"Eventually we'll have to face them again," Ben bluntly stated.

"Well, yeah, but let's just enjoy the moment, y'know? We've been through enough shit as it is. We could use a break."

Benrath shrugged. The two beasts got quiet again and kept walking. Tegast slowed down for a moment so he could take off the backpack and fish out a few pecans. The rat stuffed the nuts into his mouth before offering the shrew some. Ben shook his head, and Tegast proceeded to scarf down some more vittles before shutting the pack and strapping it to his back again. From that moment on, the rat kept flicking his eyes at Ben, expecting the beast to slow down or say something. But the most Teg got out of the shrew was a few coughs and a sneeze. The rat began to slow down as he started a conversation of his own.

"Err, I guess you don't talk much."

Ben shrugged. "Not really."

"Guess it must be hard, havin' to abandon yore own tribe like that."

"Not really."

Tegast blinked. "So, um, wot was up with you and that other shrew? Wot kinda grudge could somebeast hold that would—"

"C'n we talk about sumthin' else, please?"

The rat scratched his head. "Right, right. I'm sorry. Um…so wot d'you do for fun growin' up? I mean, I know it wasn't…pleasant all the time, but you had some kinda hobby or somethin', right? D'you fish or get into crafts?"

Benrath huffed. "Exploring, awright? Camping—that kind of stuff. I liked getting away from the Guosim—I liked spendin' time alone. When yer by yerself, it feels different. There's nobeast watchin' you, nobeast bossin' you around, nobeast teasin' you or callin' you names. It's just you an' the wilderness."

Benrath stopped walking and leaned against one of the deciduous trees. He basked in the shade for a moment as he flared his nostrils and smiled.

"I remember this one time, met this really ol' fox—he couldn't stop talkin' to save his life. He went on and on about how he was a master thief back in his youth. On an' on he went, yakkin' 'bout this an' that, 'bout stealin' some rubies, some fancy swords—he even stole somebeast's kilt once!"

Tegast stood alongside the shrew and smirked. "Wot the hell for?"

Ben shrugged. "Dunno. He told me that's just how he were! Ol' fart woulda stole a pair o' busted sandals if he saw 'em lyin' out in the open."

The rat started wagging his tail. "So you like meeting new beasts, instead of livin' with the same ones day in and day out."

Benrath blinked and sat down with his back against the tree. "I didn't say that. That were jus' one o' them times I remember. As I got older, I liked bein' alone more. Out here, with all this, it feels like there's nothin'…well, there _is_ nothin' to stop you. You c'n just keep walkin' forward, runnin' even. I felt trapped when I was around Slaine; out here, I could breathe, I could see the world fer wot it really was…I could be happy…"

"Who's Slaine?"

Benrath snorted. "The so-called Chieftain of the Guosim. Hmph. He always found me. Him or the other shrews who blindly follow him. I always ran away, jus' to get free. Even if it was fer an hour. I just had to get away."

The shrew exhaled deeply and rubbed his forehead. "But they always found me. And the fucked up thing was, Slaine never got angry. Whenever I returned home, he'd welcome me with open arms, with a wide smile on his face. He'd hug me, say he was so worried. And then he'd take me to his hut an' we'd talk in private. He'd hug me again; he'd say he was sorry. An' then he'd kiss me. …And then he'd touch me."

Tegast stared at the shrew as he started to frown. He looked away and stared at some of the ants that were crawling all over the ground while Benrath sighed deeply again and went quiet. They listened to the wind blowing gently, carrying several leaves in the strong gust. The beasts picked up the scent of the flowers and some of the moss growing on the trees. The rat looked down to his right and saw a few spotted mushrooms resting by the tree's roots. He heard Benrath inhale deeply and sigh. The rat sat down beside the shrew before he looked at Ben and saw him smiling again.

"You hear that?"

Tegast's right ear twitched. "Think there's a bird somewhere; that's about it."

Ben nodded. "Exactly. Jus' a bird. Jus' the wind blowin'. Nothin' else."

Tegast snorted and spat on the ground. "Honestly, I hate the silence. It's not natural. This-this world is full of beasts; I like hearing other creatures talkin', playin', walkin' around on the soil. Don't get me wrong; I used t'be like you when I was younger. Couldn't wait to get away from my li'l brother and parents. But after I lost my family, my tribe, I was by myself for a while. This silence is an illusion, Ben. It's a reminder that there's some _thing_ out here waitin' to kill ya. Bein' by myself for so long made me paranoid. Anytime I heard a branch creak or a twig snap, I thought I'd shit m'self 'cos I thought some feral beast was about to pounce on me and rip my throat out. Everytime a foul odor entered my nostrils, I always hid in a bush 'cos I thought some vermin bandits were lurking about. And then I'd smell my own armpits an' realize the stench was comin' from me."

Tegast sniffed. "I see why you like the silence, but me?" Tegast shook his head. "Can't do it. I'd literally go crazy with nobeast around to talk to. Hell, if I hadn't met Grustur, I'd probably be in some cave somewhere talkin' and giggling to myself as I feasted on worms."

Benrath chuckled. "Fair enough. Guess we both got wot we wanted, eh? You met more beasts, an' I got away from Slaine, an' now I'm finally enjoying all this serenity."

Tegast smiled as he looked out into the woods and gazed at the patches of flowers and various berry bushes. The rat was about to say something else when he glanced over at Benrath and noticed his eyes were shut.

"I thought you said you have insomnia?"

Benrath sighed. "I'm jus' resting my eyes is all…jus' give me a couple minutes."

The rat chuckled. "All right."

Tegast slouched against the tree and decided to take the shrew's advice. He gazed at the breathtaking scenery around him and enjoyed the peaceful moment.

* * *

"C'mon, Grus, you fuckin' know I'm right!"

The watervole scoffed as he shoved his way through a series of bushes and continued to walk forward. "That's not the point! We can't just leave those two—not when we're all in so much danger!"

"Course we can! We do that kind of shit all the time! Why should this be any different?"

"Cause we both know if we leave, our chances of survival plummet phenomenally."

Darktail scoffed. "Takes more'n some crummy lizards to scare me!"

"Right. Just an army of 'em."

"An army that I managed to talk my way through before!"

Grustur smirked. " _Before_ is the key word here. Could ya do it now?"

Darktail scratched the back of his head. "Maybe," he said softly.

The watervole grunted as he hopped over a log. "I understand why you wanna leave. I ain't one who enjoys company as much as I used to either."

"Then why the fuck you still hangin' out with that pup?"

Grustur changed the subject. "Where would you go if you left? Hmm? You got any family? You got a home—got any loved ones who are carryin' yer pup on some far away island?"

Darktail shrugged. "I'd figure it out."

Grustur snickered as he pushed several tree branches aside. "That's that bullshit talkin'! I know yer a fox an' all, but I ain't impressed. You're gonna have to do a lot better than you'll 'figure it out' if you wanna convince me!"

Darktail stopped walking and scowled at the watervole as he disappeared past the thick tree branches. He grumbled and followed the vole anyways, mumbling and swiping at the tree branches with his paws. When he made it through, he walked beside Grustur and stood still. Darktail was about to ask what the vole was looking at when he gazed at the surroundings. The amount of trees in the area had subsided; Darktail and Grustur could see various stumps with moss and mushrooms growing around the base. Up ahead were more trees, stumps and bushes, but a couple of yards away from the beasts were a massive hole in the earth. Darktail and Grustur examined it more closely and realized they stumbled upon a gully. Grustur looked inside the gully, taking note of the light brown earth and the rocks and mud resting on the bottom of the giant ditch. He looked left and right and was surprised to see how wide the gully stretched, and how the massive landform could work to their advantage should trouble arise. There were even fallen trees inside they could use for cover. Darktail kicked a stone into the gully and watched as it landed in the mud. Then he sniffed the air and grinned.

"This good enough for ya?"

Grustur raised an eyebrow. "Whatcha mean?"

"I mean this! Lookit—there's giant holes 'round here! Think we just stumbled onto a network of mole tunnels!"

"That doesn't make any sense. Why would they build tunnels here? Soil's too soft; it'd collapse on their heads."

"Which is why they chopped down a buncha trees! They prob'ly got support beams or-or some shit down there!"

"So what happens when it rains? All the water would drown 'em."

"That's the point, genius! While they go in their tunnels and lock all their doors, all the rainwater goes down this gully so they don't gotta worry 'bout bein' washed away!"

Grustur folded his arms. "I seriously doubt—"

"Yer overthinkin' shit, Grus! C'mon, let's check this out!"

Grustur watched as the fox slid down into the gully and landed on his footpaws. The watervole jumped down as well, landing inside the wide chasm with a soft squelch. The watervole looked around the gully and spotted the various stones and sticks scattered along the ground. He turned around to look at where the gully started to form before he looked up.

"Huh. Don't seem too tall," Grus said.

Darktail shook his head. "Nah, but this gully reeks of moles. They definitely used it for somethin'!"

The fox looked around the gully and removed his cutlass. He looked up and jabbed upwards a few times before he huffed. Then Darktail walked over to one of the gully walls and braced himself against it. He looked up at the area where he and Grustur were standing minutes ago and crouched down. The fox blinked twice before he sprinted towards the other wall and repeated the same gesture, crouching down as he braced his back along the muddy wall.

"Smart li'l bastards."

"You think they traveled through the woods this way?"

"No, they must've fought here. This gully prob'ly goes on fer a mile, maybe more. You could put dozens of moles down here—hundreds even! They could sleep, eat, walk around freely—a family of moles could spend days down here with enough supplies. An' when it's dark out, all they gotta do is stick pikes up in the mud, an' there ya go! Instant defense! Buncha poor bastards must've fallen down here chasin' after 'em, I'm sure!"

Darktail looked up into the sky. "Even if somebeast shot arrows down here, it's like tryin' ta kill ants with a slingshot and stone. You wouldn't hit 'em precisely—'specially if the moles braced against the walls. Only way to do some real damage is to send a whole damn army down here or ta set the gully on fire somehow."

"Only wait until it rains," Grustur added.

Darktail snickered. "Like I said, moles! Any trouble, they can always dig their way to safety!"

Grustur rubbed his chin as he looked at the gully again. He looked closely at the holes spread around the wide chasm. The watervole smiled as he started to ponder.

"This…this might actually work. There's only four of us—"

"Two of us," Darktail sneered.

" _Four_ of us. We get enough food, maybe make some more torches or find a lantern, and we could camp down here fer days! Even if the Guosim or the monitors find this gully, they wouldn't be stupid enough to try and jump it. They're just turn around or try to find a way around it."

"Only one problem dumbarse: what if somebeast just so happens to look down and spots us?"

"You said moles were down here; they must have more holes or small tunnels fer us t'hide in. With any luck, we'll find the moles as well."

"What if there aren't any?"

"Even if moles weren't down here recently, _somebeast_ was. The scent's still strong; there's gotta be a small tribe, maybe a family hidin' somewhere or travelin'. Could be warriors fer all you know."

"Or bounty hunters lookin' to flay me alive."

"Bounty hunting moles are better'n cannibalistic lizards, last time I checked." Grustur turned around and looked at the gully. "This could work fer quite a while! Even if it comes ta fightin', if we got moles on our side, they can attack from below, tunnel their way through the earth and dig traps fer the lizards to fall in."

Darktail inhaled sharply. "Seems more like we'll be a hunk of meat roastin' on a spit than well-defended beasts."

"I'm jus' saying, Darktail. Push may come to shove. If we have to rely on guerilla tactics to survive, then so be it."

Grustur exhaled as he turned and started to climb up the gully wall. "Let's head back. Ben and Teg might be waitin' for us."

"Why?"

Grustur stopped climbing and turned around to face the fox. "'Cos they said to regroup where we found those fruit trees?"

"No, I mean why not jus' leave 'em to rot? We got our own weapons; we can find our own food! And now that we know there's probably some moles nearby, we could use 'em to our own advantage if we run into Log-a-Thing again! Or at least cannon fodder while we leg it 'cross these woods."

"We talked about this. We're not leavin' those two here t'die."

"Why not? Oh, wait, that pup reminds you of yer dead son, an' now you wanna bond with him," the fox stated in a mocking voice.

Grustur stared at the fox and flared his nostrils. He looked away slowly and leaned against the gully wall as he stuffed his paws in his pockets. Darktail folded his arms and wagged his tail.

"Oh, fer fuck's sake—he _does_ remind you of yer dead son, don't he?"

"I didn't say that," Grus answered softly.

Darktail smirked. "Didn't deny it."

"He don't remind me of my dead son. There, happy now?"

Darktail took two steps towards Grustur and snickered. "So you _did_ have a son at one point. And he died. That's a shame."

Grustur stared at the fox and frowned, realizing he just told Darktail something he was hoping nobeast would know about. The watervole swore at the fox and quickly jumped up. He grabbed onto the ledge above the gully wall and grunted as he hauled his body back up onto solid ground. Darktail snickered again as he started to climb up the wall as well.

"Didn't mean nothin' by it, buddy! Real sorry 'bout that! No parent should ever—"

"FUCK OFF!" Grustur shouted.

"Awwwwwwww, don't get all pissy now!"

Grustur huffed as he started to jog away from the fox. Darktail laughed and chased after him.

"Hey, c'mon—I'll share some private family history too! Back when…" Darktail panted a few times as he jogged after Grus. "Back when I was a pup, I killed a cockroach! Killed it, squashed it, smeared it all over my footpaw. I committed murder, Grus! That cockroach had a lovin' family, a whole colony of bugs waitin' fer him ta bring back a big ol' lump of food to eat! I took it aaaaallllll away, Grus! I'M A COLD-BLOODED MURDERER!"

Grustur snarled when he noticed that Darktail was less than a yard away from him. He stopped on his heels, side-stepped the fox, and held out his right arm. Darktail let out a cut-off shout as the watervole clotheslined him in the throat. The fox landed on his back hard and started to cough and rub his throat. The panting vole looked down at the vulpine and snorted.

"Don't talk about my son. Don't talk about my family. If you ever ask about either one again, I'll beat yer arse into the ground!"

Darktail coughed. "Hey, relax, bud! We're even now! You shared your dark secret—I shared mine!"

The fox lifted his paws and drew a geometric shape in the air with his index fingers. "We're square."

Grustur flared his nostrils. "Fine. Whatever. Jus' get yer arse up. We're heading back."

Darktail watched as the vole turned around and started to walk away. The fox, however, just stared at the beast and grinned.

* * *

The four beasts all met each other later that afternoon. The group sat around in a circle near the fragrant trees, spending their time discussing the next phase of their plan as they devoured more fruit and pecans. Tegast sliced off part of a red plum with his dagger and bit the small piece of fruit while Grustur, Darktail and Benrath spent their time shelling the pecans. The shrew finished removing the shell from one pecan and tossed the nut in his mouth as Darktail looked up into the sky.

"So wot d'you find?" Tegast asked.

"There's a gully up north not too far from here," Grus responded as he smacked on pecans. "We think a buncha moles have a tunneling system down there, and from the way it smelled, we might've just missed a group of 'em."

The fox kept looking up into the trees after hearing the leaves rustling. "Yup. It's simple: we find these moles, we get more numbers on our side, we use 'em as guards, then we get the hell outta this forest."

The rat frowned. "We talked about that already. We're stayin'; we can't let these lizards burn this forest to the ground!"

Darktail stood up and started to walk around the group slowly, still looking up into the canopy. "Well, _technically_ , we _can_ …"

Tegast huffed. "You know wot I mean. Runnin' won't change anything; we both know that. So we get to Isle Glinsun or wherever. Fine, good, but wot happens five or ten seasons from now, after we've given these lizards time to fuck an-and reproduce and lay eggs and recruit more lizards to come after beasts like us? You think—"

"Shhhhh, shush yer mouth," Darktail interrupted.

The fox heard wings flapping up above and licked his lips. He walked towards one of the trees and started to climb.

"Keep talkin'! I'll be with you in a sec!"

Benrath raised his eyebrow. "Where you goin'?"

"Jus' act natural!"

The three beasts on the ground kept watching the fox in confusion as he scaled the tree. Eventually Tegast groaned and shook his head.

"Like I was sayin', you think they're gonna stop at Mossflower? These lizards aren't even native to this country; they came here from overseas! How long before they build more ships an' say, 'We've plundered this forest down to the last speck of soil! Let's go fuck up another island full of riches!' If Isle Glinsun is this paradise you say it is, Grus, how long d'you think it'll be 'afore them lizards find us there too?"

Grustur sighed. "I know what yer sayin', Teg." The watervole looked up and stuttered when he heard more wings flapping. "But you know it's gonna take a while before we get the beast-power we need to fend off this army. We can't keep goin' back and forth like this, Teg; we're better off leavin' now while we still can."

Benrath bit into one of his plums and chewed slowly. "My fath…Slaine told me a story once. Prolly bullshit, but may as well tell it now. Thousands of years ago, the Guosim traveled to a new island—a giant paradise filled with treasures an' riches, all that shit. They made it their home fer a while, everythin' was perfect. But then one season, after summer, these large beasts somehow infested their rivers. Um, giant…really large reptile things; they had large snouts, these burly, dark green an' brown bodies, long tails, hides as thick as armour…think they were called crocodiles, sumthin' like that."

Grustur shrugged. "So some giant beasts infested their rivers."

"Yah. An' these beasts like the taste of shrews. An' they can walk on land. For hours at a time. So the Guosim started losin' members—whole squads would disappear overnight, an' their body parts would be found the next mornin'. So wot happened? They banded together; they got pirates from the seas; they captured birds—hawks, crows, eagles even. They got as many beasts as possible—"

Benrath stopped talking when he heard Darktail shouting and swearing in the canopy. He flicked his eyes at the branches before he resumed.

"They got as many beasts as possible an' went up against these crocs head-on. They didn't run away or say, 'Fuck it. We'll jus' keep runnin' until these beasts stop chasin' us.' They fought them."

"I feel a 'but' coming on," Grustur muttered.

Benrath blinked. "But a lotta them perished. Wot d'ye expect? Slaine bragged that some o' these reptiles were over twenty feet long. An' a single jab to a crocodile's head won't kill it. Slaine said it could take hours jus' ta kill one o' them things. Anyways, before the crocs arrived, there were enough beasts on that island to make a large community—one nearly half the size o' Redwall. Sure, they killed all the crocs, but there were less than a score o' shrews left."

Grustur flicked his eyes at Tegast and saw him smirking, almost as if he wanted to say "See? Yore wrong, Grus." The watervole looked at the shrew as he bit into his plum again and kept chewing.

"Yeah, yeah, I get wot yer sayin'. We should all die standin' up fer wot we believe in, as opposed to livin' in luxury but bein' on the run all the time. I understand ya clearly."

Tegast pinched the bridge of his muzzle and shut his eyes. "Clearly you _didn't_ understand. Look, we're all scared here—nobeast is denying that. But we can't keep running. An' we can't keep lyin' to ourselves thinking that runnin' like hell is any sorta plan!"

The trio heard several branches snapping above, followed by frantic chirping. The beasts looked up and shouted when a giant mass of feathers plummeted towards the ground. The trio backed away quickly when a pot-bellied bird landed on the ground with a soft thud. The beasts looked around for Darktail as the bird continued to chirp and flapped his wings, hoping to get airborne. Grustur instinctively pounced on the bird and pinned him to the ground just as Darktail started to scamper down the tree, panting.

"Fuckin' cock—HEY! YOU GET THAT BIRD?!"

Grustur grunted as he shoved his paws down so he could restrain the bird as much as he could. "Calm down, calm down! Jus—STOP FLAPPIN'!"

The bird was starting to wiggle his way to freedom when Benrath walked beside the feathery beast and pointed his rapier at him. The bird jerked his head at the shrew and chirped quietly.

"Stay still, please."

The bird shut his eyes and huffed. "Stupid ground beasts. Let Ilyan go! Ilyan will fly—fly away! Won't bother ground beasts again!"

Darktail walked towards Grustur and the others holding his left eye. "I should cut your puny li'l throat open—that twat almost pecked my fuckin' eye out!"

The fox huffed as he took his paw away and nudged Tegast. "Hey, shit-stain! My eye's still good, yeah?"

Tegast flicked his eyes at Darktail's face and snorted. "Nope. S'all red an' puffy. Grustur, get off him."

The watervole looked at Tegast before he slowly stood up and gave the bird some breathing room. As soon as Ilyan was free, he stood on his thin legs and spread his wings apart. The four creatures trapped the brown thrush around in a circle and pointed their weapons at him.

"The rest a' y'all hungry? Been a while since I ate a roasted bird!" Darktail shouted.

"Ilyan only follow orders! Ilyan made deal with nasty beasts—made deal! No choice Ilyan had—Ilyan had no choice!"

"Wotcha mean you had no choice?" Tegast asked.

"Yeah. Who sent you here?" asked Grustur.

The thrush panted several times, his spotted white belly puffing outwards each time he took a breath. "The-the-the nasty beasts! Buncha nasty lizards, all vile and large an' gross!"

"Was there a bunch of shrews too? 'Specially a really fat one, prob'ly talked a lot?" Ben asked.

Ilyan nodded. "Yes! Ilyan was flyin', and—of course Ilyan was flying—Ilyan is a bird! Flappy-flappy bird!"

"Get on with it," Darktail snarled.

Ilyan huffed. "They were in the trees! Il—Ilyan landed on a branch for one moment—one moment Ilyan landed! Then a lizard assaulted Ilyan, sent him to the ground! They were gonna pluck alla Ilyan's feathers, cut off his legs and beak! Then they were gonna cook Ilyan alive, roast him so-so they could hear Ilyan screamin'!"

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaannnd we should give a shit…why, again?"

Tegast walked in front of the thrush and blinked. "Because they told him they'd let him live if he spied on us. Didn't they?"

Ilyan nodded. "Yes, yes! Smelly rat is right!"

Tegast growled. "I have a name, damn it! Why does everybeast—" The rat stopped himself and huffed. "Okay, this is good…this is perfect, actually."

Ilyan chirped and hopped backwards. "Are…are smelly rat and ground beasts gonna kill Ilyan?"

"No…so long as you do wot we say."

"Yes, yes! Anything ground beasts want!"

Tegast rubbed his chin. "Go back to the lizards and the Guosim. You tell 'em you saw us, that you know where we're going. Just…tweak the truth a li'l bit."

"Smelly rat wants Ilyan to lie? Ilyan can't lie to lizards! Lizards will kill Ilyan!"

"I didn't say lie—I said tweak the truth. You found us, did you not?"

Ilyan nodded. "Yes."

"And as far as you know, the four of us are still alone, and have no idea where these lizards are."

"That's correct."

"Okay, so this is wot yer gonna do: when you go back to the Guosim, you tell 'em you saw us—that's not a lie, right? But when you talk to 'em, tell 'em we're heading northeast."

The thrush blinked. "That's it?"

Tegast nodded. "That's it."

Ilyan blinked and stomped towards the four beasts. "How-how does Ilyan know ground beasts won't kill Ilyan later? How can Ilyan trust ground beasts?"

"We'll, err…we'll make you a plum-pecan pie as a reward! A whole big one, just fer you!"

Ilyan turned his head at an angle. "Really?"

The rat smiled. "Yeah. We got plenty of pecans an' plums already—all we gotta do is make the pie!"

Ilyan spread his wings and pecked at his feathers a few times. "Fine. Ilyan will trust ground beasts! But ground beasts better have pie ready when Ilyan returns!"

"Absolutely. Now, if I were you, I'd leave sooner than later, before the Guosim and the monitors get suspicious."

Ilyan nodded and started to flap his wings. "Yes, yes! Ilyan will leave now! Ilyan should be back shortly!"

The four beasts on the ground watched as the thrush started to flap his wings hard and began to take flight. The group waited for a moment, watching as the bird gained altitude and slowly disappeared into the canopy. They heard more chirping up above and listened to Ilyan flapping his wings, the noise gradually growing quieter as Ilyan flew further away. Everybeast sighed after Ilyan disappeared and looked at each other.

"How'd you even know that bird was watchin' us?" Tegast asked.

Darktail scoffed and rubbed his red eye. "Ain't you twats got ears? He's been spyin' on us for a while now; I heard all that flappin' ever since we regrouped here. It's what captains and generals did all the time back in the war. If they wanted t'find where the enemy was without waitin' so damn long, they'd just round up a couple birds an' use 'em as scouts in the sky. Guess the Guosim got the same idea."

Tegast couldn't help but smile as he looked around the woods. "See? Things are lookin' up already! We already found more food, you two found a place where we can hide or defend ourselves, and now we got somebeast who can draw the Guosim and monitors away from us!"

"Yeah, but sooner or later they'll wise up an' figure out Ilyan lied to them," Grustur said.

"Even if they don't," Ben added, "the lizards caught an' turned that bird against us very quickly. We ain't even been on the run fer more'n a day an' we already found a spy followin' us."

"That doesn't matter," the rat said. "All that matters is that that bird bought us another day or two. That should give us enough time to find the moles who dug those holes around that gully, which means we'll have more beasts to help us fight!"

"Or we could use this time to run! We have a perfectly good opportunity to put great distance between ourselves an' the beasts chasin' after us! Shouldn't we take it now while we still can?" the fox asked.

"No," Ben said firmly. "We're findin' these moles an' we're gunna fight back."

"I agree," said Tegast.

Darktail glared at Grustur, expecting the watervole to agree with him. He folded his arms while Tegast and Benrath stared at the beast as well. Grustur paused for a moment as he pondered all his options. He looked at the young rat and shrew before he sighed softly.

"Let's see how this plays out."

"Fer fuck's sake," said Darktail, rolling his eyes.

"I did not say we're stayin'! But let's…let's see what happens. I'm feeling a li'l more confident today than I was a week ago. Maybe things _are_ lookin' up for us."

Darktail scoffed. "No, they're not. Some sick bastard jus' threw us a candied chestnut with a string tied to it. The second we grab that nut, the same fuckin' bastard is gonna yank it away from us before we can even lick it."

Tegast shrugged. "Fine. We'll just cut off the string."

Everybeast went silent after that. Darktail kept his arms folded and sat down beside one of the trees while the other three beasts sat together and resumed eating the pecans and fruit. But even as they relished in the hot sun and enjoyed the tranquility around them, all the beasts were wondering if there was some truth to Darktail's words.


	14. The Era of Change

**XXXVIII**

 **The Era of Change**

The ferret sighed as he held the thin stick over the makeshift flame and waited. He moved the stick back and forth slowly, heating it up with the fire. Then the ferret waited for a moment and held the stick firmly in his paws so he could straighten it out. Bloodbrain blinked when he heard a few birds in the sky fluttering around or chirping. He looked into the canopy and scowled when he noticed the sun was shining in his face. S'all I need, he thought. Another way for me to be exposed. The ferret sniffed as he finished straightening out the stick and exhaled again as he put a blade against the thin piece of wood and started to shave it. He ran the knife against the stick several times, twisting it around slowly to smooth and straighten the cylindrical piece of wood even further. Bloodbrain turned around and looked at the various other primitive arrows he had on the ground, all of them missing an arrowhead but consisting of a sharp point. Bloodbrain cleared his throat when he heard more flapping above and blinked. The red and black-stripped ferret put his knife back into his pocket and picked up his bow and quiver full of makeshift arrows.

Bloodbrain crept along the ground, moving through the grass slowly so he wouldn't alert anybeast in the area. He looked into the canopy and heard more wings flapping not far from where he stood. The ferret sniffed and growled. He leaped towards the tree in front of him and started to climb up, latching his claws into the bark and hopping from branch to branch. The ferret heard another branch creaking and stopped moving. Bloodbrain blinked twice and crouched down on the branch he was standing on. He took two steps forward and saw the beast hop on the branch in the adjacent tree. Bloodbrain blinked again and slowed down. He looked up at the kestrel in the tree and watched as it picked at its feathers. The ferret looked around at the other trees in the area, trying to see who else might be watching him. But all he saw was the kestrel, the beast still unaware of his presence. Bloodbrain quickly notched an arrow to his bowstring and aimed for the kestrel's throat. Then he fired. The ferret blinked and waited until he heard a faint thump below. Then the ferret climbed down the tree and jumped onto the ground. He turned and looked at the dead bird and huffed.

"Figures," he murmured.

The ferret walked over to the kestrel and dragged it over to the pile of dead birds he had lying beside his campfire. Then the ferret sat down on his log and resumed working on his makeshift arrows. Bloodbrain flared his nostrils twice as he reached down and started shaving one of the other sticks.

"No point in sneakin' up on somebeast when they can smell you," he said.

Bloodbrain waited and listened to the beast some yards behind him sigh heavily and stomp towards him. He looked up from the bonfire in front of him and saw the scarred ferret casually walk in front of him.

"S'pose not," Kurwin started, "but it ain't like I'm takin' a bath anytime soon!"

Bloodbrain blinked and looked down at his sticks and makeshift arrows on the ground. He started to sharpen the tip of one of the sticks with a knife, listening to the fire crackling and Kurwin breathing softly. The ferret ignored the pirate's presence and kept working on his arrows. But every now and then, Bloodbrain would pause whenever Kurwin started to walk around the log he was sitting on. Bloodbrain slowly shifted around when Kurwin started to walk behind him. He looked up at the captain again and saw a grin on his face. Bloodbrain sniffed.

"You can leave now."

Kurwin shrugged. "Jus' felt like comin' out here an' spendin' some time with ya."

Bloodbrain huffed. "Wot d'you want?"

"Wot makes you think I want something?"

" _Everybeast_ wants something from me. I've been with this crew for a while now, and nobeast has yet to come near me just to say 'hello.' So wot do you want?"

Bloodbrain noticed that Kurwin was starting to circle him again, like a predator intimidating its prey. Bloodbrain shifted around on the log again so he could keep an eye on the pirate.

"Always so direct. Guess that's wot I like about ya."

"Did you come here just to kiss my posterior?"

Kurwin snickered. "Does it _look_ like I wanna put my lips anywhere near yer dirty arse?"

Bloodbrain didn't answer and sighed as he heated one of the sticks in the fire. Kurwin folded his arms and wagged his tail.

"That's the thing about you mercenaries: don't care 'bout nobeast but themselves. You can flaunt as many rewards as you want in their faces; won't change wot ya are. Ain't got no family, ain't got no friends, ain't got no home—yer jus' a walkin' weapon fer beasts to use. S'that bother you, ta know that ya spend yer life bein' a _thing_ fer somebeast's advantage?"

Bloodbrain blinked. "Does it upset you that, even at your age, you are not fully capable of enunciating words properly?"

Kurwin frowned and snorted at Bloodbrain. He started circling him again. "Knowin' wot ya are, wot role you play in society—it can get to ya. Might drive ya mad."

"Or perhaps I embrace wot I am."

Kurwin walked directly in front of Bloodbrain and glared at him. Bloodbrain looked up at the ferret's face as he flashed his crooked yellow teeth at him.

"Yes…yes, you do. Killers like you are professional. They gotta be great at wot they do, otherwise they're obsolete. Hmm, assassinations, torture, murder, flaying, poisoning—you know it all."

Bloodbrain looked back down at the stick he was burning and started to straighten it. The ferret grunted when he bent the stick too hard and it split in half. He shut his eyes as Kurwin laughed at him, and then opened them again slowly.

"My presence distracting you, Bloodbrain?"

The mercenary tightened his jaw and snorted. He stood up slowly and looked down at the captain. Bloodbrain held each half of the broken stick in each paw and tightened his grip.

"Is there something you would like to ask me, Kurwin?"

"Is there something you wanna tell me, Bloodbrain?"

Bloodbrain nodded. He leaned forward, his muzzle brushing against Kurwin's nose.

"You're a fool," he growled.

Kurwin backed away after feeling Bloodbrain's hot breath on his nose and snorted. "Am I?"

"Absolutely. You walk around here, acting like you're the new ruler of this forest, that you deserve to own everything."

"I _do_ deserve everything," Kurwin snarled.

Bloodbrain shook his head. "No, you don't. When I first started working for you, you had at least three times the amount of pirates you have now. You lost some due to a mutiny, some from the plague, some out of stupidity. And then you lost everything when your last two ships crashed up on that beach."

"I didn't lose a thing. I was simply given a better opportunity."

"And you took that opportunity and decided to piss all over it. Sure, yes, getting more allies was a smart move. Getting the Juskamard tribe?" Bloodbrain shook his head. "You gave a bunch of lazy, inexperienced slobs weapons and told them to fight. And unsurprisingly, nearly half of them perished when we fought the MSB."

"It was necessary so we could attract attention from other vermin tribes and pirates similar to the Juskamard clan."

Bloodbrain nodded. "Yes, that is a good point. But now, you've also attracted the attention of this badger Urthquake, who commands the Long Patrol. Now, I haven't seen the Long Patrol myself, but I'm sure they're much more experienced, and vastly larger, than your army. But wot really makes no fucking sense to me, was when you had us eliminate the Cleavers so you could gain the support of some group of goodbeasts. So…so let me get this straight: you're trying to gain more support. But instead of killing a defenseless tribe of goodbeasts you _know_ you can trounce, you decide to slay a perfectly competent clan of vermin killers you desperately need on your side. And after you slay them—which was _not_ something those goodbeasts wanted—you had the audacity to tell them _right to their faces_ that, if you wanted to, you could rape and kill their whole tribe. Explain your logic behind that."

Kurwin grinned and folded his arms. "As I told Dirtfoot, manipulation an' sentiment are great motivators."

" _Fear_ is a great motivator, you dumb fuck," Bloodbrain snarled. "You weren't kind to that tribe; you made them fear you. I even saw one of them piddling themselves when they looked at you and your corsairs. You really think they're going to support you after wot you did?"

"You answered yer own question: fear is a great motivator."

"Now you're just being a hypocrite to try and justify your reasoning. Fear won't make them allies for you—it'll make them turn _against_ you. You think the Redwallers weren't scared when Cluny tried to take over their home? You think the Long Patrol wasn't scared when Ungatt Trunn and Ferahgo tried to storm their mountain? They didn't bend over and take it up the ass; they banded together and _fought_ those beasts. And they _won_ , Kurwin—that's the important part. Cluny, Ferahgo, Razzid Wearat, Damug Warfang—all these beasts had plans similar to yours, and they botched it. Horribly. Because they underestimated their foes, or because they were overconfident, or they couldn't keep their troops in line—wotever they did, wotever they planned, it failed."

Bloodbrain scoffed. "I thought you were trying _not_ to make their mistakes? I thought you said you were 'better' than they were."

Kurwin stared at Bloodbrain in silence and blinked. "I am better," he murmured.

"No, you're not. Just because you're not stupid enough to try and take over Redwall or Salamandastron doesn't mean you're a brilliant warlord who knows how to succeed in conquering this forest. You keep this up and it won't be long until you join Tsarmina and all the rest in Hellgates. And I guarantee you, you're gonna take wot's left of your crew down with you. We _both_ know that's not wot you want, so you better wise the fuck up. Today."

Bloodbrain didn't say anymore. He didn't need to. After he saw the look on Kurwin's face, the ferret blinked and backed away. He dropped the sticks from his paws and sat back down on the log. Then he turned around and resumed working on making more arrows for himself. He finished constructing another makeshift arrow and rubbed his paws around the smooth stick gently. He heard Kurwin walking behind him very slowly; he felt his presence mere inches from his back. But he didn't turn around. He grabbed another stick and started to shave it again when he felt Kurwin's paw on his right shoulder. Bloodbrain raised an eyebrow and turned, surprised at the gesture.

"Thank you," Kurwin said softly.

Bloodbrain blinked. Are you serious? the mercenary thought. Are you sounding genuine right now? Is this…well. This is oddly uncomfortable. …Huh. Bloodbrain was about to reach up and remove Kurwin's paw himself, but eventually the captain took his paw off his shoulder. Then he turned and walked away, leaving Bloodbrain alone to make more arrows.

* * *

Traegar was leaning against one of the trees beside the captain's tent. The weasel sniffed and looked around the area, watching as the pirates continued to sharpen their weapons and started to stock up on food. He could smell a few birds roasting over a fire, and he heard a couple of beasts smacking as they chewed on flesh. Traegar heard a few footsteps coming from his right and spotted Kurwin walking towards him. The weasel glanced at the other pirates before he crept towards the captain.

"Did he do it?"

Kurwin shook his head. "Nope. He's in the clear."

Traegar blinked. "You sound _very_ relieved. D'you figure out who did kill Ishlin?"

"I will soon, don't worry."

"I have to, Cap'n. Somebeast tried to kill you—somebeast in our own crew. And in the process, we lost Ishlin."

"Yah, we did. But as I said, no worries." Kurwin sighed heavily and started wagging his tail quickly. "Startin' to feel good t'day!"

Traegar chuckled when he saw Kurwin smiling. "What did Bloodbrain say to you, exactly?"

"That I'm a fuckin' idiot."

The weasel started to frown. "I don't get it; why didn't ya knock his fuckin' teeth out?"

"'Cos he's right. That's why I need you an' some beasts to fetch some birds. Don't kill 'em, don't roast 'em, jus' pluck one or two of 'em out the sky. Keep 'em alive so I can talk to them."

Traegar looked up into the canopy and blinked a few times. "You think that Badger Lord Log-a-Log mentioned has some birds spyin' for him?"

"I wouldn't rule it out. We're still not a large enough army to take on Urthquake and his hares. We need more troops sooner than later; we can't take the risk of runnin' into another MSB squadron, especially if it's larger than before. So get me those birds. I'll handle the rest."

Traegar nodded. "Aye, Cap'n!"

The weasel and ferret went their separate ways. Kurwin knew now wasn't the time to lollygag. All the time he spent ignoring Ishlin's killer meant the perpetrator had more time to strike at him again. All the time he spent resting in one location seemingly unprepared for trouble gave the MSB and Long Patrol more time to find him. Kurwin breathed heavily as he looked around the campsite. Several groups of vermin were scattered around the woods. He looked up and saw some beasts chopping branches off trees; many beasts were sitting on the ground, maintaining their weapons and checking to see how much food they had left. A few beasts were drinking rum and jabbering nonchalantly. All these creatures, Kurwin thought. Any one o' these fuckers could be plannin' a mutiny. Kurwin blinked as he continued to observe the pirates. He started to walk forward, heading right for the giant crowd. The ferret looked up into the canopy again and flinched when some of the sunlight hit his eyes. He turned away and continued to scope out the area. Some pirates were climbing up the trees and plucking pears from the branches. The captain came across several of his crew members and casually smiled and nodded at them when they greeted him.

Kurwin was examining the area when he stopped and maneuvered past a pile of excrement somebeast didn't bury. The ferret spotted two rats urinating on the same tree and could hear a couple of beasts having sex yards away from the main group. The ferret grunted when he felt something wet plop on his head and grimaced. Kurwin looked up and snorted when he saw a back-striped weasel lying down on a branch with his mouth wide open and a strand of saliva hanging from his jaw. Kurwin huffed and picked up a stone from the ground. Then he hurled the stone right at the weasel's mouth, causing the beast to shout when one of his teeth was knocked loose. The weasel yelled again when he fell out the tree and landed on the ground with a hard thud. Kurwin folded his arms as he looked at the brown weasel with a white stripe going down his spine.

"Whuh? Fuck ye wan', Cap'n? Tryna sleep 'ere!"

"I see that, Gyges. Got a favour t'ask ya."

Gyges opened his mouth wide and yawned before he smacked his lips and scratched his sides. "So ask."

"I need you t'spy on some beasts for me. Lotta shit's been happenin' since Ishlin died. Wanna know who I can still trust."

"So wotcha want me t'do? Go around climbin' trees an' shit, eavesdroppin' an' stickin' me nose in other beasts' business?"

Kurwin grinned. "I just want you t'do wot ya do best."

Gyges blinked and snorted. "M'goin' back to sleep."

Kurwin watched as the weasel climbed back up the tree and got onto the same branch. He groaned as he lied down on his back and started to get comfortable. The ferret stayed still and waited until Gyges started snoring. Then he shook his head and started to walk away.

"Lazy-arse cunt," Kurwin whispered.

Gyges groaned as his ears twitched. "I heard that," he mumbled.

Kurwin looked over his shoulder at the "sleeping" weasel and smirked. He resumed his walk through the woods and started to scrunch his face when he noticed a ghastly odor heading in his direction. The ferret gazed at a small opening between a set of bushes and spotted Jenrik and Blowhorn standing beside each other and laughing. Judging by the way both of them were pointing their rumps at each other, the captain figured they were taking turns passing gas. Kurwin huffed and shook his head as he walked away. He stepped over a few thin roots near the giant sycamore trees surrounding him before he heard somebeast snort twice and spit on the ground. The captain gradually headed towards the sound and heard a shrill _THUNK_ as well. When the ferret walked past two trees and spotted a few supplies lying on the ground, he turned to his right and saw Turvin and Slipfoot sitting together and fidgeting with their weapons. Slipfoot was checking to see how many more arrows he had while Turvin was slouching and flinging stones at a small target she painted on the bark with dye. The stoat closed one eye as she pulled back with her sling and let the stone fly. Kurwin heard another wooden _THUNK_ before Turvin chuckled.

"Heh. Still got it!" the stoat told herself.

"Good," said Kurwin, interrupting the trackers' tasks. "Then you won't mind doin' somethin' for me."

Slipfoot huffed. "Depends on wot it is."

Kurwin flicked his eyes into the canopy and blinked. "Fetch me a bird."

"We got plenty of birds 'round here, Cap'n. Just find some roastin' over a fire an' dig in."

"I mean a live bird, Slips. We're gonna need some if we wanna accelerate our plans. I already got Trae lookin' for one; I want you to find another, in case he doesn't catch one soon."

Turvin fitted another stone to her sling. "No can do, Cap'n. Sorry."

Kurwin frowned. "Why not?"

Slipfoot looked around the area. Then he snorted and looked up at Kurwin. "Case you ain't noticed, ain't many trackers left! Pretty much jus' us now!"

"In case _you_ ain't noticed," Kurwin retorted, in the same tone, "there's over fourscore beasts 'round this whole forest. I'm sure ye c'n find some replacements."

Turvin let the stone fly. "Name some."

"Razzik, Bloodeye, Olfyn and Fekwin."

Slipfoot and Turvin looked at Kurwin with raised eyebrows. "You came up with those names _immediately_ ," said Slipfoot suspiciously.

"Razzik might not be top-notch in combat, but he's capable of handling himself around a team; he showed that when we rescued those monitors from the otter clan. Fekwin is very good with a spear; Olfyn's good with a spear _and_ archery. You two and Olfyn can handle the long-range combat and stealth; Razzik, Fekwin and Bloodeye can handle close-quarters combat."

"How is Bloodeye gon' help us?" Turvin asked. "He's just gunna run his mouth the entire time, especially if he's fightin' alongside Razzik!"

"Yes, he will be with Razzik. An' you two are gonna make sure they don't cut each other's throats out."

Turvin groaned and rolled her eyes. "Fer fuck's sake, Cap'n."

"So now we're baby-sittin' some pups?" asked Slipfoot.

"Somebeast poisoned Ishlin. Somebeast within this crew, this family, killed one of their own. I don't care how 'dire' your grievances are with other beasts. Yer not gonna sit here an' ignore 'em. Either mend the fence you tore down, or get the fuck out me crew. I'm not losin' anymore beasts over trivial shit that could've been resolved if two beasts jus' sat down an' talked it out."

Turvin sniffed and blinked. She shrugged. "S'pose we can't jus' lock Razzik and Bloodeye in a room together, can we?"

"That's not an option."

The stoat sighed and stood up. "Awright then. I'll go find 'em and let 'em know."

Kurwin watched as the stoat gathered up her stones and started to walk away. As the stoat left, Kurwin glared at Slipfoot and stood by him.

"You seen Fleckle anywhere?"

The rat shrugged. "Last I checked, he were busy tryin' t'catch his tail or some shit."

"You mean he's by his tent?"

"I guess. I ain't his keeper, Cap'n."

Kurwin disregarded the rat's smarmy attitude and headed for Fleckle's tent himself. He knew something was wrong with the stoat; the Juskamard tribe seemed distant lately. Maybe Kurwin was being more paranoid than he should be over what happened in his own crew. Maybe he was looking for demons and ghosts that weren't really there. But after Ishlin's death, and what Bloodbrain told him, the pirate knew he couldn't afford any more mistakes now. The captain grunted as he jumped over a few logs and found Fleckle's makeshift tent several yards away from where Kurwin's crew was resting. The ferret stopped walking when he heard somebeast grunting and bracing his back against the main support post for a tent. Then the ferret smirked when the beast shouted and the post fell, along with the entire tent. Kurwin chuckled as he walked beside the rubble and watched as Fleckle crawled out from underneath the tarp.

"Oh! Hey, Kurwin. Don't s'pose ya know how ta set these things up?"

"You gotta put some pegs or stakes in the ground 'afore you set it up."

Fleckle scratched his head and blinked. Kurwin groaned and rolled his eyes; he walked forward and helped the stoat get back to his footpaws. The stoat stood up and wiped some of the dirt off his legs before he sighed.

"I'll figure it out later I guess."

Kurwin rubbed his paws together and sniffed. "So I'm sure you already know wot happened ta one o' me captains, yeah?"

Fleckle nodded. "Yah…shame really. Lotta beasts in me tribe still ain't over wot happened to Jarron an' the others either."

"I've noticed a _lotta_ beasts ain't over that."

Fleckle glared at Kurwin and tightened his jaw. "You askin' or tellin' me that?"

Kurwin shrugged and started to walk around the tent. "You made the right decision, choosin' ta stay with me an' my crew. But I'm not entirely sure your tribe feels the same way."

Fleckle chuckled nervously. "Th-they lost lots of friends that day, Cap'n. How would you feel if nearly half yer mates parshed…mmm…perished—that's the right word, yeah?"

Kurwin nodded, and the stoat continued. "Right. So wot would ya do if nearly half yer crew died in a single battle?"

"Before I became captain, an' I was first mate, this crew were over a thousand strong. By the time I _was_ captain, that number went down to a li'l over seven hundred. D'you wanna know how strong me crew were when I first met you and Rord?"

Fleckle shrugged. "Four hundred?"

The ferret shook his head and lowered his paw. "Li'l less than two."

Fleckle stared at the ferret for a moment, his head drooping and his tail going limp. "Oh," he said gently.

"I'm an old beast, Fleckle. An' when you get…" Kurwin paused. He blinked twice and exhaled as his tail went limp. "You can replace an army, Fleckle. You can't replace your family an' friends."

Fleckle scoffed. "Trust me; I learned that quite clearly followin' that twat Rord."

Kurwin stopped circling the tent and walked up to Fleckle again. "But this is _your_ family, Fleckle. Nobeast else's. An' if you don't want somebeast else runnin' this family, ye gotta make sure everybeast is in line."

"Sounds like I should be tellin' you that. Wasn't it somebeast in yer own crew who poisoned Ishlin?"

"That's the point I'm tryin' ta make. You don't wanna be in the same position I'm in right now. So let's make sure it don't ever reach that point."

"How?"

"Rum."

Fleckle blinked. "You want me to bribe me tribe?"

"No, not at all! Gather 'em all 'round later today! Have some…have a commemoration."

"A wot now?"

"Give everybeast a li'l more time to wind down. Get 'em all nice an' drunk."

"Sounds good, but that'll only go so—"

"Wotcha notice when beasts get drunk?"

Fleckle shrugged. "They like ta throw up an' piss themselves?"

"They like to talk. A lot, Fleckle. They tend ta say shit most beasts would keep to themselves if they were sober. So somebeast like you is havin' issues with his troops? Why not…why not let these troops expose themselves? An' while these troops are busy blabbin' on an' on about wot a 'terrible' leader you are, you'll be standin' right by their side, drinkin' water an' keepin' yer mind clear."

Fleckle started to smirk. "Clear enough to remember anything malicious somebeast says about me."

Kurwin grinned. "That's exactly right."

The stoat giggled. "That's a fantastic idea! S'not like anybeast will know the difference! But, wot should I do if I find any traitors in my tribe?"

"I can't answer _everything_ for ya, Fleckle. Yer the new leader now. That decision is entirely up to you."

Kurwin patted the stoat on his shoulder twice and nodded. Then he walked away and rejoined his own crew. The stoat looked at Kurwin as he walked away and began to ponder. Is he right, Fleckle thought. Is somebeast in my tribe plottin' ta kill me or somebeast close to me too? Is somebeast out ta get me? …Hmm. Prob'ly shoulda asked if he could stay behind an' help me set this tent up.

* * *

Sharkbait wasn't stressing himself out. What good would it do him? Sure, dozens of pirates had perished in the last few weeks, but there was no reason to get upset or enraged when his family was still going strong. He still had other beasts like Stinkfoot and Razzik who were his friends. And fire ants. Fire ants were always his friends. No matter how much blood he was covered in or how rank he smelled, they'd always come crawling towards him, drawn by his radiant behavior. Sometimes the ants would climb on top of Sharkbait's body and tickle him with their tiny legs and antennae; other times they'd playfully bite him, and the stoat would yelp and giggle. But most importantly, Sharkbait always trusted the ants whenever he was hungry. He knew the tiny insects would always run off to the nearest source of food they could find, and he'd always follow. So the stoat slowly walked along with the ants, his muzzle almost planted in the dirt. He ignored all the other beasts who bumped into him or gave him queer glances. None of that mattered. All he cared about was finding more food. And after following the ants to a few blueberries that had been crushed into the dirt, Sharkbait looked up and spotted a familiar face.

"Hello, Jaleen!" Sharkbait shouted.

The plump ferret stopped chewing on her blueberries and frowned when she spotted the stoat smiling at her. "Oh…hey, Sharkbait."

Sharkbait sat down in front of the ferret and smiled. He didn't say a word, nor did he move close to her. At most he wagged his tail and flared his nostrils. Jaleen looked down at the bag filled with blueberries before looking back over at the smiling stoat. The ferret sighed and handed the bag over to Sharkbait.

"Thanks!" Sharkbait shouted.

Jaleen blinked and watched as the stoat started to messily cram the tiny berries into his mouth, crushing them all over his paws and smearing some of the juices around his face. After the stoat had his fill, he swallowed hard and handed the bag back over to Jaleen.

"So wotcha dooooooin'?" Sharkbait asked.

"Eatin' blueberries. Now go away," Jaleen growled.

"Why?"

Jaleen snorted. "You threatened me. You _choked_ me. You almost cut my fuckin' belly open o'er some fuckin' chestnuts. Piss off."

Sharkbait wagged his right pointer finger. "No, no, no!" He pointed at Jaleen. "Sharkbait almost killed Jaleen 'cos Jaleen was bein' rude!"

"That don't give you the right to up an' kill somebeast."

"An' Jaleen didn't have the right ta be mean to Sharkbait."

The ferret snorted and went back to eating the berries. "…I'm really not in the mood t'day. Can you jus' leave me alone, please?"

"Why?"

Jaleen blinked. "'Cos I dun' want no company 'round me."

"Why?"

"'Cos bein' 'round beasts distracts my thoughts."

"Why?"

Jaleen slowly pinched the bridge of her muzzle and shut her eyes. "Sharkbait…now I'm askin' _you_ nicely. Please go away."

"But Sharkbait wants to help Jaleen! Maybe-maybe Sharkbait can make Jaleen feel better."

Jaleen paused when the stoat started to creep behind her. The ferret was about to drop her bag and reach for her dagger when Sharkbait planted his paws on her shoulders. Then the stoat smiled and started to squeeze and rub around the ferret's shoulders and neck. Jaleen blinked a few times and sighed as she leaned forward. The stoat started to scratch at Jaleen's back, rubbing and massaging her very slowly.

"You can't make Jale…me feel better. It's not like ya can raise my friends from the dead."

"Untrue! Sharkbait remembers the time he-he lost a friend o' his! Sharkbait cut off his head an'-an' he used it as a li'l puppet! Day and night Sharkbait would have such fascinating conversations with his puppet head!"

Jaleen raised an eyebrow in confusion and played along. "Err…that's interesting. Wot, um, wot happened to this puppet head?"

Sharkbait growled. "Kurwin made Sharkbait get rid of it. Said the smell was makin' everybeast ill. Such rude pirates—so wot if my puppet head didn't bathe? It's not like they do either!"

Jaleen quickly changed the subject. "That's creative an' all, but I'm talkin' about all my tribemates who died when we attacked the MSB. They're gone, Sharkbait—I can't bring 'em back. Not in the same form they used to be in."

"Sharkbait lost friends too, Jaleen. Sh-Sharkbait had to bury beasts he loved too…"

Jaleen and Sharkbait went quiet for a moment. Jaleen sat straight up, and the stoat started to play with Jaleen's ears. The ferret tried to swat his paws away, but Sharkbait grinned and kept scratching them.

"I know, but you-you always seem so chipper."

"Sharkbait always happy! Sharkbait don't get sad no more!"

"Everybeast gets sad, Sharkbait."

"But why? Wot is there to be sad about? Look around, Jaleen! Yer still surrounded by friends! We're stuck in a lush forest teeming with all sorts of vittles! An' we're all havin' a fun adventure! Sure, yeah, maybe we did lose some friends, but that's okay! Sharkbait still has their memories—he still knows their souls are still with him! Isn't that wot matters?"

Jaleen sighed deeply. "I guess so. S'pose mullin' won't do me any good anyways. Got other shite ta worry 'bout now, huh?"

Sharkbait giggled and wagged his tail. "That's exactly right! No need to be sad, Jaleen!"

"Wot about angry?"

Sharkbait sucked air in-between his teeth shrilly. He started to rub Jaleen's neck very slowly. "Oooooooh…that's not a good word for Sharkbait. Not a good word at all. That's one o' Sharkbait's trigger words."

"The hell does that mean?"

Jaleen noticed that Sharkbait was starting to squeeze the back of her neck. "Sharkbait noticed…he noticed that he's _very_ happy when he's angry. But Sharkbait can't get angry. No, that…that leads to…Sharkbait made a deal with himself: he can only get angry during battle. That's it."

Jaleen sniffed. "So…so wot happens when you get angry outside a battle?"

Jaleen felt the grip on the back of her neck tightening. Suddenly, Sharkbait let go and stepped in front of the ferret again. He crouched down and wagged his tail as he got in the beast's face. "That's the easy part!"

Sharkbait stuck his paw into the bag of blueberries and grabbed a giant pawful. Then he exhaled as he crushed them all in a matter of seconds. Some of the juices and mush began to drip from his paw.

"Sharkbait just crushes things! Yes, he does. It's very soothing to him…very relaxing. Sometimes Sharkbait grabs something soft an' squishy, and he just squeezes…he squeezes very hard—hard enough to crush wot he's holding! Hehe, that's why Sharkbait loves slugs so much! They make such silly noises when Sharkbait squeezes them and juices come out!"

Jaleen blinked. "Um…juices?"

Sharkbait opened his mouth and started to lick the crushed berries from his paw and nodded. "Uh-huh! Like squeezing an eyeball!"

"…Right. Well, uh, thanks, Sharkbait," said Jaleen with a slight smile. "I do feel a bit better now."

Sharkbait giggled. "Always here to help!"

The stoat stood up and patted Jaleen on the head with one of his paws. Then he giggled again and walked away. The ferret was about to eat more blueberries when she felt something sticky in her fur. She reached up and grasped her head, and then scowled when she realized Sharkbait just smeared his crushed blueberries on her scalp.

* * *

Muslar and Dirtfoot were waiting impatiently. Dirtfoot was muttering to himself and pacing back and forth while Muslar was biting the tip of his claw. He folded his arms and exhaled as he looked around the forest, still feeling very paranoid. The bright sun was beginning to set, causing the rays to breach through the canopy. The sky was a shade of orange and blue, and the rat could already hear a few insects chirping in the distance. Muslar turned around and started to look around the trees. He even climbed up the pear tree he and Dirtfoot were standing beside, just to make sure nobeast was spying on them. Then the rodent climbed back down and proceeded to bite one of his claws again.

"We need an exit plan," he blurted out.

"Shurrup. We'll make one if it comes to it," Dirtfoot retorted.

"It has! You know that! If somebeast figures out—"

"They won't. Shut yer fuckin' mouth."

Muslar took three deep breaths and rubbed the back of his head. "It-it'll be dark soon. A lotta beasts will be drunk or sleepin'! We got vittles all 'round us; we just gotta make a run—"

"I told ya to shurrup! Wot yer doin' right now, that's wot's gunna get us fucked! You stay calm, don't be walkin' around with shit in yer britches, an' we'll be okay."

Muslar chuckled and sniffed. "Right, go on an' tell that to Glud! The fuck is he?!"

"I told him…"

Dirtfoot stopped talking when he and Muslar heard leaves and sticks crunching. They turned to their left and saw the shaggy ferret walking towards them and scratching his hide.

"Awright, I'm here," Glud whispered.

Dirtfoot stomped towards the ferret and snarled. He grabbed him by the throat and choked him so hard Glud couldn't even squeal. The rat shoved Glud against a tree hard and snorted.

"You son of a bitch," he snarled, with spittle flying from his mouth.

"Ack…le…" Glud whimpered as he grabbed Dirtfoot's arm and tried to pry him away.

"Gimme one good reason why I shouldn't break yer fuckin' neck right here an' now!"

"'Cos Kurwin an' the others are still lookin' fer a traitor! The fuck you think's gonna happen if we kill Glud right after Ishlin got slain?!" Muslar pointed out.

Glud whimpered again as Dirtfoot tightened his grip. He gagged twice and nearly reached up so he could lash at the rat's eyes, but Dirtfoot eventually came to his senses and let the ferret go. Glud inhaled sharply and started to cough as he rubbed his throat. He bent over, hacking and spitting all over the ground. The two rats stared at Glud and growled at him.

"You'd better start talkin' right now! The fuck happened?!" Dirtfoot demanded.

Glud hacked as he rubbed his throat and stood straight up. The aging ferret coughed a few times and sniffed. "I dunno mate. Why dont'cha tell me? You told me you were gonna wait."

Dirtfoot exhaled. "I understand yer upset—"

"You fuckin' told me you wouldn't do anythin' until all three of us made a decision!" Glud turned and faced Muslar. "Let me guess: you knew wot his plans were too."

Muslar shrugged. "Hey. Ain't my fault you missed a meetin'."

Glud scoffed. "Damn it, Dirtfoot! How are we s'posed to rule this crew if we already don't trust each other?!"

Dirtfoot snickered. "Lookit the hypocrite on his tall-arse throne. You stand there an' say yer on our side, yet the _only_ reason why Kurwin ain't dead is 'cos of _you_. You were the one who bumped into him. You were the one who didn't even try to convince Kurwin to take a drink."

Muslar chuckled. "And don't go cryin' about Ishlin! It ain't like you tried to stop him from drinkin' that poison!"

"Because I didn't think you'd go through with it! For once I had hoped—I had a _li'l_ bit of hope that you wouldn't go ahead an' try somethin'! But somethin' in my gut told me that Kurwin was in danger, so—"

"So you intentionally bumped into him and made him spill his drink. You ain't even gonna try to deny it," Dirtfoot concluded.

Glud huffed and shook his head. "It's not time yet. We need to wait—"

"Now's the perfect time. Everybeast is questionin' him—especially now that Ishlin's dead. Before woulda been even better if you hadn't cocked it up!"

"Use yer brain fer one fuckin' second! If you had killed Kurwin, and then immediately afterwards, declared yerself captain, wot d'you think the others would realize? Hmm? They already know somebeast within our crew killed Ishlin—they woulda come to the same conclusion if Kurwin had been the one who died!"

Muslar turned and looked at the other rodent. "He got a point there, Dirtfoot. They woulda been all o'er yer arse in a heartbeat. 'Sides, Traegar's his first mate; we'd have to take him out too."

"That's too many bodies in too little time. We can't—"

"Shut the fuck up! Both of you!"

Muslar and Glud shut their mouths. Dirtfoot removed his knife from his waistsash and walked towards Glud. The ferret instinctively began to back away until he found himself pressed against a tree.

"D'you trust me, Glud?"

"Yes, I-I—"

"Yore lyin'. If you _did_ trust me, Kurwin would be dead by now. You don't think I'd be a good ruler? Huh? Is that it?"

"I didn't say—"

"Kurwin is the reason why all this bad shit keeps befalling us! Kurwin is the reason why we've lost so many beasts these past several seasons! Something has to change or this entire crew will be gone! The _only_ way this crew will survive is with Kurwin in the ground an' me as the new captain! Wot part of that don't you understand?!"

Muslar wagged his tail. "Sounds clear ta me!"

"I wasn't talkin' ta you, dibshit!"

Muslar shut his mouth just as Dirtfoot held his blade up to Glud's throat. "I can't have you doubting me."

"Dirt—"

"No. Shut yer fuckin' mouth. When I become captain, there will be no tolerance for cowardice or treason! I may as well do m'self a favour and kill you right now."

"Dirtfoot…please, believe me. I am not a traitor."

The rat scoffed. He lowered the knife and tossed it at Glud. The ferret yelped and caught it before he dropped it while Dirtfoot folded his arms.

"Prove it then. Go kill Kurwin. Tonight."

Glud's eyes grew wide. "Tonight?"

"You wanna prove you ain't a traitor to me, this is how you do it. Go slay him in his sleep, or when his back's turned, or when he's takin' a shit—I don't fuckin' care. Just kill 'im before sunrise tomorrow."

"Get rid of Trae too while yer at it," Muslar added. "He's prob'ly gonna be guardin' him most of the night anyways. An' like you said, even if we kill Kurwin, Traegar'll just take his place. We're gunna have to kill 'im sooner or later anyways, so why not now?"

Glud breathed heavily as he stared at the two rats. "Wot-wot if I refuse?"

"Yer not gonna," Dirtfoot growled.

"Final shot, Glud. Take it or we'll go ahead an' cut yer throat now an' be done with it," Muslar added.

Glud stared at the two rats, and then looked down at the blade. He shut his eyes and took a long breath, pondering deeply, trying to decide on what he should do. But Glud knew what had to be done. He knew who the proper leader of this crew should be. He knew his decision could backfire horribly; he was certain it'd get more beasts killed. But he had to do it, or else everybeast he knew and loved would perish. Glud opened his eyes and looked at Muslar and Dirtfoot, now feeling calm and focused. He nodded.

"Fine," he said softly. "I'll do it."

* * *

The sun finally set. Everybeast was sleeping or taking turns patrolling the perimeter. The canopy blocked out a large portion of the moonlight; the only source of light the beasts had was from the fires they set. Everything seemed so serene now, even though everybeast had to bury one of their captains less than a week ago. The area was rife with crickets and cicadas, to the point where some beasts found it hard to get any sleep. At best, somebeast would nod off around a campfire and let the sound of the crackling wood lull them to sleep. The corsairs on patrol didn't encounter much. Somewhere a bird was squawking; elsewhere somebeast yelped when a grasshopper landed on their footpaw or inside their trousers. Nobeast smelled anything strange in the warm spring air. As the night continued to move along, the patrol units grew smaller and smaller, and more beasts decided to get some sleep.

But not Glud. The old ferret was sitting alone on the ground, his back pressed up against a tree in the darkness. No campfire was lit, and the light from the stars and moon didn't reach him. He could barely see a thing, and nobeast could see him. Everything was very peaceful out here, away from everybeast else. The ferret actually had time to contemplate without another beast interrupting his thoughts or sleep. But right now, Glud couldn't fall asleep even if he wanted to. He was hoping life would take its course and his time would run out. The beast was old; he was surprised his body hadn't shut down already. Glud closed his eyes and ran his fingers through the fur on his scalp. Then he grunted and pulled off several strands of his fur with ease. Glud sighed and wiggled his fingers, dropping the fur onto the ground. He listened to the insects creating a racket around the woods, followed by a strong gust of wind that made several branches in the trees sway.

Glud swallowed as he gripped his dagger. He stood up slowly, his heart beating fast as sweat continued to run down his face. Glud kept gripping the dagger; he had to do this. Dirtfoot and Muslar were too tenacious now. If he didn't do this, those rats would just find somebeast else. So the ferret crept around the forest, avoiding all the wide-open areas and sticking beside the trees so nobeast would spot him. The ferret could hear some squawking in the distance and wings flapping; Glud assumed somebeast just shot down another bird. Glud threw himself into a ditch when he heard somebeast grunting above him. Several branches creaked and snapped; Glud could hear somebeast jumping from branch to branch above him and sniffing the air. The ferret waited until the beast on patrol hopped several more trees away before he exhaled and stood back up. Glud started to jog towards his captain's tent, where the flapping intensified and he could hear some kind of bird talking in a harsh voice.

"…flight…trapped…business!"

Glud was close enough to the tent to see the outline of two beasts inside. He crept closer to the tent so he could listen in on the conversation.

"We are not forcin' you t'do anythin'," Kurwin said calmly. "We're jus' lookin' for a li'l assistance is all."

Now Glud could hear clearly. The third creature inside the tent was definitely a bird.

"Bollocks! You beasts were tryin' ta eat me earlier! You deceived me, putting out that slice of peach crumble just so you could trap me in some confounded box!"

Traegar snickered. "Hey, don't blame us fer _your_ stupidity. Ain't our fault you didn't look up!"

"Look, if we were gonna cook ya up and eat ya, we woulda done so already. Just calm down and lissen to wot we gotta say," Kurwin reassured.

The bird squawked with irritation. "Fine then! What do the stupid groundbeasts want?"

"Simple. You know yer way around the Northlands, yeah?" Kurwin asked.

"What of it?"

"Good. I want you to fly up near the mountains. There's a beast near the base of it, scrawny fellow by the name of Rilus O'Granger. Last I heard he were amassing an army, trainin' somebeasts for some kind of takeover. All I want you to do is go o'er there, find Rilus, an' tell him that his ol' pal Kurwin is back. Tell 'im we should meet up at the Northern Shores beside the cliffs. Ya got that?"

The bird paused. "What's in it for me?"

"Come this time in the summer, fall at the latest, my army's gonna be in control of this forest. An' I'll make sure you and yer entire family of crows is so well-fed that you'll be too fat to flap them wings of yours."

"Hmph. Hollow words from a beast I know nothing of."

"All good things come to those who wait. I'm offering you _more_ than a simple 'thank you' fer your efforts, an' all I want you to do is deliver a message. How hard is that?"

Glud waited and listened as the bird flapped his wings twice. "Fine. Rilus O'Granger was it?"

"Yah."

The bird flapped his wings again and started to hop around in the tent. "Give me a couple days."

Glud waited until he heard the wind rushing and a series of flapping seconds later. He noticed something large appear in the darkness and gradually head towards the canopy. Moments later, the dark mass was gone; Glud figured the bird just flew off, and Traegar and Kurwin were alone now.

"'Last you heard'? We talkin' weeks or seasons, Cap'n?" Traegar asked.

"Rilus told me he were makin' preparations last fall, and it'd take him two or three seasons. They prob'ly had a minor setback in winter, but the timing should be right. Getting close to summer now, so we should be good."

"What if Rilus is gone or dead?"

"Only time Rilus ever left the mountains was when he planned on doin' somethin' big or he went out lookin' fer recruits. An' if he's dead…well, we'll just have ta find somebeast else, won't we?"

"…You sure this will work?"

"It _has_ to…we've come too far now, Trae. As soon as we find this sniveling turncoat in my crew, we can get back to my original plans."

Glud heard enough. He had to make his move now. The ferret stood up and stomped around the tent. He gripped his dagger tightly as he shoved the tent flaps aside and stormed into his captain's quarters.

"Oh. Hey, Glud. D'you—"

"Dirtfoot and Muslar are plannin' a mutiny an' tryin' to kill you!" Glud blurted out.

Kurwin and Traegar stared at Glud with befuddlement. "Err… _what_?" Traegar asked.

Glud panted as he put his dagger away and wiped some sweat off his face. "It…it's true! They're conspiring with one another! They-they poisoned yer beverage that killed Ishlin, Cap'n!"

"Are you shittin' me?!" Traegar bellowed.

Kurwin stared at Glud before he flicked his eyes over at his first mate. The captain closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead and scalp, irritated. Then he groaned with exasperation and sat down on his cot hard, still pressing his fingers around his eyes. Kurwin took a long breath and lowered his paws. He looked at Glud and Traegar; he appeared tired as opposed to furious or vengeful. Kurwin blinked twice before he shook his head and chuckled.

"I need a fuckin' drink."


	15. Confession Time

**XXXIX**

 **Confession Time**

The ferret exhaled as he grabbed another bottle of rum and started to drink. Traegar snorted as he paced back and forth, staring at Glud as he grasped his dirk with one paw. Kurwin removed the bottle from his lips and exhaled after downing a good portion of the rum. He smacked his lips a few times before he looked at Glud and smirked.

"You want some?"

"I'm-I'm…I'm good, C-Cap'n," Glud replied.

Kurwin shook the bottle. "Ya sure about that?"

"I ain't thirsty, sah."

Kurwin sniffed. "Right. Sure. Or maybe you poisoned this bottle too."

"I-I'd never do that, Cap'n!"

"Then drink the rum."

Glud shook his head. Kurwin scowled and stood up. He removed his knife from his waistsash, prompting the aging ferret to back away. Before Glud had the time to blink, Kurwin slashed him across his cheek, drawing blood. Glud shouted, and then started to choke when Kurwin shoved the top of the bottle far into Glud's mouth. The ferret spluttered and coughed as Kurwin tilted the bottle backwards and emptied the contents of the glass bottle down Glud's gullet. Kurwin tossed the bottle aside and backed away from Glud as he started to cough repeatedly.

"Guess we're both fucked now, eh?"

"I…I didn't poison the rum!"

Glud wiped the fluids from his mouth and backed up again when Traegar and Kurwin stepped towards him, their weapons drawn.

"Start talkin'," Traegar growled.

Glud huffed. "Wot's there to say? You can already guess why they're doin' this."

"Dirtfoot an' I have had our differences before. He never resorted to plannin' a mutiny. Why's he so adamant now?" Kurwin asked.

"I dunno, 'cos we lost all our ships? 'Cos o'er these past several years, we've lost too many pirates to count? 'Cos he doesn't agree with yer plan to take o'er Mossflower? I could go on, Cap'n!"

Kurwin nodded. "Then continue. Explain _everything_."

Glud rubbed his head. "We…we had a talk some nights ago, shortly after we assaulted that MSB camp. He told me somethin' 'immediate' had to be done 'bout you, 'bout all this nonsense! So me, him and Muslar talked. They wanted to know if I was with 'em or not. So…so I played along. I-I told 'em I'd help 'em."

Traegar growled. "So you're admitting yer treachery?!"

"NO! Jus' lissen to me!" Glud stammered. "I didn't know how far they were gonna go, okay?! I thought they were jus' runnin' their mouths! It wouldn't be the first time!"

Kurwin stared at Glud and snorted. "You bumped into me on purpose. That day Ishlin died."

"I…I-I had a feeling…so-so I figured, it'd be better to play—"

Kurwin stomped towards Glud and kneed him in the groin. The ferret shouted and fell to his knees, his head in front of Kurwin's crotch. Then Glud gasped when Kurwin tilted his head upwards and planted his knife against his neck. Glud whimpered as the captain panted in his face, his breath reeking of rum and grog.

"You knew Dirtfoot was gonna kill me an' you stood there and didn't warn me?!"

"NO! I-I swear! I didn't know how far Dirtfoot was gonna take this; I didn't know he'd try to kill you so soon! So I made you drop that wine bottle 'cos my gut told me Dirtfoot might try somethin'! D'you really think I'd let Dirtfoot kill you?!"

"You let him kill Ishlin. All you had to do was open yer fuckin' mouth an' he'd still be alive," Kurwin snarled.

"Don't you think I know that?!"

Kurwin noticed that Glud was whimpering and tearing up. The captain growled and took his knife away from the ferret's throat. He let Glud stand back up, and he sniffled and wiped a tear away.

"Why d'you think I'm here, Cap'n? Why d'you think I told you all this?! We already lost one captain 'cos I didn't speak up. I can't…I'm tired, Kurwin. After the shit Tilhym put this crew through, I can't go through another mutiny, Cap'n. I won't. You—we…we have to stop Dirtfoot an' Muslar."

"How do I know this ain't all bullshit? How do I know you ain't the one who poisoned Ishlin an' yer usin' Dirtfoot and Muslar as scapegoats?"

"'Cos they told me to kill you! Tonight! 'Cos they said if I don't kill you by tomorrow mornin', they're gonna kill me!"

Traegar smiled sinisterly. "Sounds like a plan to me! Let's wait it out 'til morning, Cap'n! If Glud's dead, we'll know he was tellin' the truth!"

Kurwin scoffed. "I'm tempted to go with that idea."

"I…" Glud shut his eyes and rubbed his head with one paw. He sighed deeply as he shook his head and sniffled. "I'm not…I'm not gonna stand here an' waste my breath, Cap'n. I made a mistake. I-I know that now. An' I'm-I'm tryin' to make up for that. I'm tired of us killin' each other; I'm tired of us bickerin' like savages; I'm tired of beasts like Dirtfoot doin' shit like this to beasts like you! …I told you wot I know. I told you wot Dirtfoot an' Muslar plan on doin'. It's up to you t'choose ta believe me or not."

Kurwin leaned against one of the posts inside the tent and exhaled. "It ain't necessarily we don't believe ya. But we jus' lost Ishlin. Wot yer sayin' is that Dirtfoot an' Muslar are committing treason."

"I know."

"Then you know wot I must do t'both of 'em."

Glud nodded. "I know."

"Hmph."

"I…I understand if…if you don't plan on—"

"Get out."

The ferret blinked. "Wot?"

"Go sleep with the others, preferably away from either of those two rats; I doubt they'd be dumb enough to risk killin' you in a crowd. I'll try to stay out of sight tonight."

"W-wot about you? Wotcha—"

"We'll handle Muslar and Dirtfoot. Don't worry about it."

Glud exhaled hard and slowly backed away from the weasel and ferret. He nodded again slowly and wiped his eyes again. "Thank you…I'm s—"

"I said get out," Kurwin snarled.

Glud gasped softly before he backed away. Then he turned tail and ran outside the tent, leaving Kurwin and Traegar alone to contemplate. The captain huffed deeply as he sat back down on his cot and rubbed his forehead, sighing. Traegar stared at his tired captain as he reached over and grabbed another bottle of grog. The ferret grunted as he removed the cork from the bottle and quickly took a long drink from it. After the fiery fluids rushed down his throat, Kurwin lowered the bottle and coughed and sniffed. Traegar moved closer to him, but the ferret held up his paw and grumbled.

"I'm fine," he growled.

Traegar glared at Kurwin's eyes and how the beast was sitting. It was all he had to do before he shook his head.

"No, you're not."

Kurwin looked up at the weasel and leaned back on his cot. He chuckled wryly and spat on the ground. Then the ferret shook his bottle for a moment and blinked.

"S'just…it's so much easier, y'know? I c'n jus'…all I gotta do tomorrow is wake up, an' tell everybeast, 'Fuck it. Let's steal a ship. Sail far away from this stinkin' shit-hole.' An' everybeast would nod and agree with me. 'Cos secretly, that's wot they want. We…we could sail again. We could find an' island, rule it as our own. You could…you could feel them wooden planks beneath yer footpaws again. I could walk around me own ship again, yell at you lot fer pissin' on the floor when ya know you shouldn't. We could make more friends on the sea…find more pirates. Establish connections and a-a tradin' route, perhaps. Our own li'l network…empire even. Yes…our own li'l empire on the seas. I miss that…that salty sea air, that crisp wind blowin' on me face. Just…just once, y'know? Wouldn't mind smellin' that again."

Kurwin stared at Traegar again and snorted. "That's the easy way. That's the way I _want_ t'do it. It'd be so much simpler, an' everybeast would be happy with my decision. An' then these goodbeasts would come along, fuck it all up fer us. Wotever empire I build on the sea—they'd just ruin it, burn it all down, kill us all. S'wot they do."

"Cap'n, I-I'm not—"

"But the _right_ way," Kurwin continued, interrupting Traegar, "is to keep doin' wot we're doin'. It's to take the fight to them, to band all us vermin together an'-an' to flush everybeast who opposes us out of the way. An' then we won't have to worry about anybeast else ruinin' our empire—on land or on sea. That's wot beasts like Dirtfoot don't understand."

Kurwin took another long drink of grog before he smacked his lips and wiped his mouth off. "They're babes, Dirtfoot an' Muslar. I told 'em, 'No, you can't eat dessert first. You gotta eat all them green vittles so ya grow big an' strong.' But they wouldn't have that. They whined, they complained, an' then they decided to physically hurt me. But instead of hurtin' me, they hurt Ishlin. An' they ain't sorry about it either. Maybe Glud is—he came clean. He confessed. But these other two…hmph. Can't let this go on. Can't let it happen again. So now we just gotta punish these two babes."

Traegar exhaled and sat down beside his captain. "I understand—"

"No, you don't. Until you rule over yer own crew, you'll never understand. Heh, jus' 'cos I make it look easy don't make it so. You think any ol' beast can pick up a bow an' arrow an' become a master archer?"

The weasel shook his head. "I get it, I gotcha. …But you _are_ our captain, Kurwin. Don't matter if you like it or not. You own this crew now; you've led it for many seasons, through all the good an' bad. You can't break down now all 'cos you're getting 'tired.' You think it's easy for me? I _always_ have to back up your decisions. I _always_ have to guard you, at all times. I coulda easily betrayed you too, y'know."

"And I coulda easily left this crew to rot, an' venture out on my own."

Traegar snorted. "But I didn't," he said in unison with Kurwin.

Kurwin smiled as he turned and faced Traegar. "And we never will."

The two beasts kept staring at each other's smiles for a moment. All they could hear in the distance was the wind occasionally blowing and some of the insects chirping and making noises around the woods. Kurwin looked away and grunted as he stood up from the cot and stretched.

"Right then, 'nuff o' this sentimental shit. Glud said they want me dead by morning. So we gotta handle this tonight."

"Got it. We'll catch 'em separately; if we're lucky, they're prob'ly sleepin' or drunk."

"Good."

"Jus' to be clear, when you say punish…"

"Muslar an' Dirtfoot can never do this again. Understand?"

Traegar paused for a moment before he nodded. "Okay. I'll get Dirtfoot—"

" _I'll_ get Dirtfoot. You find Muslar. He's jus' Dirtfoot's bitch; Dirtfoot's the only one dumb enough to be the leader of this mutiny. I'll handle him myself."

"Fair enough. I am curious though. How d'you know nobeast else is with Dirtfoot?"

"Relax," Kurwin said with a smirk. "I got somebeast on it."

* * *

The brown weasel was still sleeping, even with all the other beasts around him still wide awake. Gyges snorted and snored, his right leg hanging down the tree branch and his mouth wide open. Sharkbait looked up at the snorting weasel and giggled.

"Sleepy Gyges sounds like a stripedog, don't he?"

Turvin rubbed her temples as she tried to drown out the weasel's snores. "Aye. Fuckin' horde could be right under his nose an' he still be sleepin'."

A fox looked up at Gyges as well and spat on the ground. He folded his arms and looked around the section of the forest, still curious as to why he was in the middle of a group discussion this late at night. The campfire beside them was large, giving off enough light to illuminate all the beasts in the area. The fox could see Turvin, Slipfoot and Sharkbait. Gyges was in the trees snoozing away. Razzik and Blowhorn were sitting together, with a majority of the beasts in the group sitting away from the latter. The fox turned around after hearing some leaves rustling and saw a gray rat stomping towards the campfire and wiping his left paw clean.

"The fuck you been, Tugger?! Feels like it's been seasons since we last saw ya!"

The rat looked down at the fox and sniffed. "Ah been 'ere this 'ole fuckin' time, Bloodeye!"

"So…wot, while all this other shit's been goin' on, you been chokin' yer cock in private all this time?"

"Oh, fuck off," the rat said in a huff.

Tugger sat down beside the fox and folded his arms. He spat on the ground and snorted as he looked at everybeast.

"OI! Fuck we all doin' 'ere?! 'Bout time fer me t'get more sleep in 'fore Hellgates bursts open!"

"You all know why we're here," said another fox.

Everybeast got quiet as a tall reddish-brown fox stood up and stepped close to the fire, revealing himself. Bloodeye glared at the vulpine and chuckled.

"Hey, Slivik! Ain't seen yer arse in a while either! You been busy strokin' with Tugger too?"

Slivik ignored him and looked at all the beasts around the campfire. "I gathered you all 'round here so we can discuss everythin' that's happened."

Turvin shrugged. "Beasts died. We're still tryin' ta take over this cesspool of a forest."

"I'm aware of that. But I'm not stupid either. I've heard some chatter here an' there. Some of you have, err…'issues' with the captain and his recent ways."

"Wot, like how his plan to instigate this Badger Lord is backfiring?"

"I wouldn't say backfiring, but after what happened to Ishlin, some beasts in this crew are upset with the way Kurwin is doin' things, an' some beasts wanna hurt him anyway they can."

"Are ya that fuckin' surprised mate? Lookit alla shite's been goin' on since 'e's been runnin' this fuckin' crew!" Tugger blurted out.

"Tug—"

"No, Turvin, no! That cocksucker is the reason why alla this shite's been 'appenin' ta us! We were o'er a thousand strong at one point! Alla vermin 'round us; alla beasts 'round the seas; alla allies ta 'elp us when we were in trouble! The fuck 'appened?! Mutiny affer mutiny affer, fuckers double-crossin' us, Kurwin burnin' bridges, Kurwin refusin' 'elp when we needed it most—all 'is fuckin' plans led us ta where we are now! We ain't even got a single ship wif' us now, an' o'er two-thirds o' this crew is dead! Why the fuck we still followin' 'im?!"

There was a long silence after the gray rat's rant. Some beasts began to murmur, while Slivik just looked at the rodent and shrugged.

"Yer absolutely right. Kurwin has made several mistakes in the past. Some were his fault; some weren't. It's a travesty to be a part of this crew. You should get up and leave at once."

"Pfft! Fuck off wif' that bollocks!"

"I'm serious," Slivik snarled. He pointed into the dark forest and nodded. "Door's that way. Get yer arse out. Go back to bein' Jeslin the Jester. That _was_ your stage name, right?"

Tugger stared at the fox and gritted his teeth. "Yew shut yore fuckin' mouth."

"No. You say Kurwin is fuckin' everythin' up? Leave. Go back to livin' out yer comfy life on some posh island. Go back to havin' everybeast laugh _at_ you as you make a fool out of yourself fer entertainment. Go back to humiliating yourself for a livin' as you slowly grow old and die a lonely death, where everybeast will only remember you for all the times you did somethin' stupid to get some beasts to chuckle. But hey. Least you'll still be alive, right? Least you won't be 'round Kurwin, right?"

Tugger and Slivik glared at each other briefly. The rat blinked as he remained seated. He spat near the fox's footpaws and swore at him, but he didn't get up and leave. The fox nodded gently before he started to walk around the fire.

"So who else? Who else shares Tugger's 'pain'? I'm sure there's quite a few of you who aren't so tolerant to what Kurwin is doin'."

A majority of the vermin around the campfire kept their mouths shut since they knew Slivik would tell any of them what he just told Tugger. Everybeast held their tongues, up until a slender dark brown weasel looked up at the fox and flared her nostrils.

"If anything, I thought you'd be with Tugger on this one. I know ye don't _hate_ Kurwin, but that don't mean being part of this crew is all fun and games."

"Who said it would be, Olfyn?"

Olfyn rubbed her muzzle and shrugged. "Don't you think you've reached a point where you _want_ to leave? To go out and find somethin' better?"

Razzik turned and faced the weasel. "Wot else _is_ better fer-fer beasts like…like us?"

Olfyn shrugged again. "Anything. Never killed anybeast before I joined this crew. Never tortured anybeast either. Now I lost track of how many beasts I've slain. And the sad thing is that I've grown to like it, even though I know it's wrong. S'no different from drinkin' grog; we all know damn well it ain't healthy for us, but we drink it anyways. I keep asking myself why some of us are still here, why we're still goin' around killing and raping indiscriminately."

"Same reason why I'm still here. Same reason why Slivik hasn't disowned Kurwin even though his brother pe-perished during a—one of the battles Kurwin instigated. We've no place else to go. We've all l-lost something, Olfyn. I lost my family; Slivik lost his brother; you lost—"

"I know what I lost," Olfyn snarled.

Razzik quickly shut his mouth when he noticed Olfyn was barring her teeth. She quickly calmed down and resumed talking.

"I just feel like we've reached the point where we should be telling ourselves we c'n do better, that there's more to this life than this."

Bloodeye snorted and butted in. "Sounds to me like yer sayin' you're better'n us."

"I'm not saying that at all. I'm merely saying I'm self-aware of what I'm doing, and that's what's eating at me. Is it better for us to go out there and risk running into monsters, or is it better for us to stay here and _become_ monsters just so we don't have to run into other monsters?"

Razzik sighed and shook his head. "Look, we-we all knew wot Kurwin was the day we saw him skin a beast alive. We, um, we all know wot he's capable of, and we're-we're all still here by his side. I don't…this ain't about right or wrong, Olfyn. It's about friendship, and family, and all that other sappy bullshit. _That's_ why we're all still here, and you know…not leavin'. We're all too attached to this crew now, whether we like it or not. It don't matter wot any of us does; we still care about each other…and we still love each other. Don't you…don't you, u-um, think it's sayin' something that you're still with us, even after everything you've seen and done?"

Olfyn didn't respond. She just shrugged as she gripped her spear and drew lines and figures in the soil. Slivik was about to resume talking when he looked up at Gyges still snoring on the tree branch with drool running down both sides of his mouth. He grumbled just as Slipfoot hopped up and stood by him with a smug grin on his face.

"C'mon now, wotcha gotta complain about?! We go 'round sailing the seas, travelin' to new places, findin' treasures—"

"That was _before_ we lost all our ships," Bloodeye pointed out.

"Tch! Big fuckin' difference—we got footpaws, don't we? We can walk, can't we? Wot's stoppin' us from doin' the same shit on land that we did out on the sea?"

"Ooh! OOH! Sharkbait knows! Sharkbait knows this one!"

Slipfoot sighed and rolled his eyes as he looked at the energetic stoat thumping his tail on the ground. "Yes, Sharkbait?"

"SQUIRRELS! Like-like the ones from MSB! And-and the longee-ear beasts from the Stomp Patrol!"

"Long Patrol," Slipfoot corrected.

"And riverdogs from holts! And-and big stripee-dogs! And giant birds with massive talons that rip through flesh! And, uh—and the mice and hedgehogs and other warriors from Redwall! And uhhhh…MERCENARIES! And assassins! And other vermin—"

"OKAY, SHARKBAIT!" Slipfoot shouted, as he smacked his paw against his forehead. "Look, the point is, it's dangerous here—we all know that. Was it any better out there? We had to worry about a mutiny, rival pirates, thieves and rogues from small communities located at ports. There were whirlwinds, whirlpools, the _Whirly Bird_ an' her dreaded crew. Crocodiles, giant birds, sharks, giant fish, icebergs, thunderstorms, hurricanes, rogue waves—I can go on and on! Don't matter if it's land or sea or sky—wherever we go, we're in danger all the time. So I don't understand why some of us are whinin' an' bitchin' about bein' on land, about how 'deadly' Mossflower is when bein' out in the sea is just as bad, if not worse."

"Maybe 'cos we _know_ wot's out there? Maybe 'cos we're much more comfortable out there? Maybe 'cos this is foreign soil to us, 'cos we _know_ how to deal with all the shit you just said?" Bloodeye said.

"And yet, despite all that, Tugger here was whinin' about how the Cap'n is responsible fer losin' so much of our crew! Seems to me that the _sea_ was wot claimed all those lives, _Jeslin_."

"Yah clearly weren't listening to me! Bein' on the sea o' on land ain't the problem! The fuckin' problem is Kurwin; it don't matter where we're at! If Kurwin's leadin' this crew, we're all endin' up in Hellgates!"

Sharkbait blinked. "Aren't we all headin' there anyways?"

Razzik cleared his throat briefly. "I-I think—"

"Shut yore fuckin' mouth, Sharkbait! If any a' yew twats 'ad a fuckin' brain yew would know automatically that wot Kurwin's doin' won't lead to anythin' good!"

"Um…I think—"

Turvin interrupted Razzik. "For me personally, I still trust Kurwin; I always will. But some of you gotta understand that us losin' all our ships and this nonsense with the MSB was really testin' us. Ishlin dyin' may have been the straw that broke the camel's back. There's only so much we can take before some of us throw up our paws and jump ship."

"THANK YEW, TURVIN!"

Turvin looked at Tugger and scoffed. "I still think yer bein' a twat; I'm just pointin' out why somebeasts' faith in Kurwin is waning."

"Hello?" Razzik shouted.

Slivik ignored the black rat and exhaled. "But isn't that exactly why all of us should be closer than ever? It's all some-some fuckin' test or whatever—that's all it is. That's why my brother and Longfang and all the others were taken from us; that's why we just lost Ishlin. If we see a giant mountain blocking our path, we don't just shrug and turn around! We climb that sonuvabitch until we get to the other side!"

Razzik scowled. "Fucking shut up!"

Razzik gritted his teeth as he listened to more beasts shouting and arguing with each other, refusing to give him time to speak. The rat was about to stand up when Blowhorn, who had been silent for most of the conversation, smirked and grabbed the rodent's shoulder.

"Relax mate. Let me show you how it's done."

Razzik stared at the dirty rat as he stood up and walked beside Slivik. He covered his nose in advance, already aware of what the smelly rat intended on doing. Without any form of warning, Blowhorn leaned over as he took his right footpaw off the ground. Everybeast shut their mouths once their ears were flooded with a cacophonous trumpeting noise. At first a few vermin thought somebeast was blowing a horn, but when they saw what position Blowhorn was in, several of them immediately plugged their noses or groaned. After the din died down, everybeast dropped their debate altogether and started scowling at Blowhorn.

" _Again_ with this bollocks?!" shouted Tugger.

"Thanks. Always wanted to taste one of yer deadly gas bubbles," Bloodeye sneered.

"Now's not the time, mate," Razzik whispered.

"Seriously, Blowhorn? Yer gonna do this shit now?" Slivik asked.

Blowhorn spat. "Yeah, yeah, I am gonna do this shit now! Lookit all of us, sittin' here bickering about all this pointless bullshit! 'Oh, Kurwin did this; Kurwin did that; Kurwin didn't do this; Kurwin didn't do that! These beasts died; those beasts died; a mutiny happened; some vermin went rogue; some bridges got burned! Drama, drama, drama, drama, drama, drama!' Just. Fucking. Shut up. It doesn't matter. It happened already. Happen _ed_. With an 'ed' on the end of that bitch! We can't change wot did or didn't happen, so why are we sittin' here complaining about it? Things went wrong. Beasts died. We lost our ships. We're stuck in Mossflower until further notice. End of story!"

Turvin waved a paw in front of her nose. "So wot was the point in you blowin' ass at us?!"

"Just provin' a point. Y'all notice how the stench is already starting to die down?"

"Yeah, so? Wot of it?"

"That's the point! Wot of it?! All of ya were disgusted for a brief moment, but now it's just 'Eh, wotever. Smell's gone now.' That is exactly what we're goin' through now. Ishlin's death, losin' our ships, runnin' low on beasts and supplies—it's all just a temporary setback. Somebeast blasted some gas at us and we're still reeling from the odour! But after some time, the wind will kick in an' blow the 'stench' away! Heh, now if we all decided to rebel against Kurwin, or broke away from this crew…"

Razzik frowned when he saw Blowhorn squatting. "Wot—NO!"

"DON'T YOU FUCKIN' DARE!"

But Blowhorn didn't care what anybeast else thought about him or his repugnant behind. A majority of the beasts either turned away or groaned when Blowhorn started grunting and passing more gas. But it wasn't until the trumpeting noises turned into crackling squelches that all the beasts started shouting at the rat over how vile he was. Blowhorn sighed with a content smile on his face as he voided himself and slowly lowered his tail. Then he stood up and grinned with his arms folded, acting nonchalant.

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE, BLOWHORN! Could you really not wait?!" Turvin asked.

Slivik plugged his nose as he backed away from the brown rat. "We're tryin' to discuss all the shit that's been goin' on and you think it's appropriate to present us with _actual_ shit?"

Blowhorn nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I do actually. You wanna know wot happened a couple minutes ago? All I did was release gas—it was a lot of gas, but just gas nonetheless. And after a moment, the wind blew the smell away, as if it never happened. But see, this back here…"

Everybeast groaned when Blowhorn turned around, lifted his tail, and showed off his soiled trousers. One of the vermin started retching when he saw some of the waste sliding down the back of his legs.

"That's a stink that never goes away! No amount of wind or fresh-scented plants or soap or wot have you can get rid of it! You can leave it on the ground and let it sit for days; it's always gonna have that lingering odour that nobeast can stand!"

Blowhorn chuckled as he started to walk around the campfire, intentionally getting close to some of the other pirates so they could get a nice whiff of his messy trousers. Bloodeye drew his dagger and snarled when Blowhorn invaded his personal boundaries.

"If you don't get the fuck away from me now, I'm gonna shove this so far up yer arse you won't be able to shit ever again!"

Slipfoot rubbed his forehead with one paw as he kept his nose plugged with the other. "I'm assumin' you did that fer a reason. Just hurry up an' get on with it!"

The dark brown rat sniffed. "Right. Point is, if we leave Kurwin's crew, or rebel against him, or wotever some of ya ambiguous vermin are plannin' on doin', we'll only cement the problems we're currently facing. Don't matter if we go alone, or-or find new mates to be with, or go back to bein' a jester—there's always gonna be that stink followin' us. Our problems will _never_ go away; we'll be spendin' the rest of our lives wanderin' around with shit in our shorts! And as you can all plainly see, this is _not_ a stench anybeast wants to put up with! So wot do you beasts want: you wanna face our problems head on, put up with 'em and treat 'em like they're just gas bubbles in the wind, or do you wanna run away from yore problems, let 'em manifest into a pile of shit in yore pants that never stops followin' you?"

"Whichever one doesn't involve faeces," Olfyn stated.

Almost everybeast got quiet afterwards, short of a couple beasts who coughed or retched as the wind carried Blowhorn's noisome scent towards them. Blowhorn sat back down beside Razzik and folded his arms, still grinning over what he just did. Razzik quickly scooted away from him and coughed.

"You couldn't pull yer trousers down at least?" Razzik asked.

"Tch! Where's the fun in that?"

There wasn't much debate after Blowhorn's disgusting display. Most of the chatter died down to murmurs and Gyges' obnoxious snoring. But with everything Slivik, Blowhorn, and some of the other creatures said, they knew most of the beasts had stated everything they wanted to say. Slivik looked around at all the beasts he gathered around the fire, hoping that everything he said had swayed any ambivalent minds. But when he glared across the flames and saw Tugger scowling at him, he realized there still might be a potential threat in the crew. The fox pretended not to notice his glare and looked up at Gyges. He was drooling so much that he was gargling on his own saliva, and most of his muzzle was wet. Slivik shook his head.

"Fucker's _still_ sleeping…"

Slivik looked away from the snoring weasel, unaware that his left ear had twitched after he spoke.

* * *

"Well. This was easier than I thought."

The light brown stoat rubbed his nose as he stared at what was left of his tribe. Almost half of them had perished fighting the MSB, while the other half were gathered around a set of bonfires and were either unconscious or mostly inebriated. The Juska clan leader sniffed as he consumed some of his grog and exhaled. He knew he'd be better off drinking water, but at the same time, acting slightly inebriated was better than fully pretending. The stoat smiled widely and feigned a slurred laughed. That's right, he told himself. Just do wot that ferret pirate told ya.

"Now there he is! There's our precious leader!" Jaleen shouted.

Fleckle pretended to laugh again as he bowed. Then the stoat yelped when he fell forward. He knew he wasn't drunk out of his mind, but he knew how he acted when he was; all the other beasts around him would lower their guard if they believed he was too intoxicated to stand properly. The Juskamard leader grunted as he stood back up and dragged his footpaws over to the same log Jenrik and Argyle were sitting on. The giant plump rat quaffed another bottle of grog in one massive gulp before he set the bottle down and patted his thick gut.

"More grog! Jenrik still thirsty! C'n still drink grog!"

"You drink anymore grog an' ya'll be pissin' all o'er yerself all night!" Jaleen shouted.

Jenrik laughed after hearing the ferret's words. He slowly tilted backwards along the log until he shouted and fell flat on his back, with his legs still up as he showed off the area between his thighs. Jaleen and the other beasts laughed at the rodent while Fleckle sniffled and kept glaring at his crew. He looked to his right and saw Argyle smirking at him.

"Ya gon' finish that, sah?"

Fleckle turned his head away, the fox's breath so strong that it almost burned the hair in his nose. The stoat responded to the fox's question by taking the bottle to his lips and consuming the rest of it. Then he exhaled and shook the empty bottle in front of Argyle's face.

"Naaah…URP! Feel free tersh drinkee wot's lef!" he said, still feigning his slurred speech.

Argyle snatched the bottle away and grunted as he stuck his tongue inside in an attempt to lick the last few drops of grog from within the glass. As the fox tried to consume what was left, Fleckle looked up ahead and saw an arctic fox and a short fox with large, black, wide ears sitting alongside Jaleen. The fox with tawny fur scratched at his belly while the arctic fox glared at Fleckle and grinned.

"So whatsa big plan now, Juska leader?"

"Ehhhh, dunno mate! Not like ish eveah mattah! Jussa big dumb stoat who can't count right, ain't I, Iris?"

The bat-eared fox sitting beside the arctic one laughed in a high-pitched tone, and spoke very quickly. "Nonsense! Yer better'n that pompous twat Ferrin! Always has been; always will be!"

Iris sniffed and rubbed her muzzle. "Aye! Best day o' me life was when we saw that fucker's head on a pike!"

The tawny-furred fox laughed again. "Thought it was when you finally got Argyle's cock in ya!"

The arctic fox snorted at the vulpine beside her. "Let's not bring _that_ up again, MacFayden…"

Argyle took his tongue out of the bottle and snickered. "Really? I sure as hell would!"

The Juskamard clan all laughed at the drunk fox's words. Fleckle kept glancing at everybeast in the tribe, looking at those who were sleeping and those who looked like they were about to vomit. He curled his toes a few times before he exhaled and scratched his neck.

"Ahhhh, always did enjoy these moments. Nuthin' betta'n sharin' some drinks wif me tribe!"

MacFayden hiccupped and rubbed his massive ears. "Aye! Rord never let us do this! He always hogged alla good wine an' vittles while he gave us piss and bread all the time! Least now we're all equals, sharin' the same shite you're privy to!"

"Gotta admit though, 'twas a lot safer wif Rord 'round!"

Jaleen blinked and nodded. "Yah…it was." She paused for a while and leaned forward. Fleckle thought she was about to vomit, but the ferret just smirked. "Fuckin' borin' though. All we did was eat an' fuck an' shit everywhere."

Iris glared at Jaleen's chubby stomach and grinned. "An' grew fat."

"Oi, least I ain't jus' fur 'n' bones like you and Elrym o'er there!"

Fleckle turned and stared at the tan fennec fox who was sleeping on the ground, his face stuck in a puddle of his own bile. He glanced over at Jenrik and could see he passed out while he was still in an uncomfortable position. Then the stoat looked around at all the drunken or sleeping beasts before realizing how few of them were left. Fleckle rubbed his paws together before his tail went limp.

"…I'm a horrible leader."

Argyle snorted and punched Fleckle's right shoulder. "Bah, loada rat shit that is! Ain't no worse'n Rord was!"

Fleckle blinked. "You all know it's true. Lookit wot 'appened after we joined Kurwin's crew. Lookit how fast we lost nearly half the tribe! Some o' you weren't shy 'bout bringin' it up in front of me!"

Jaleen exhaled. "Aye, I'm upset I lost some o' me mates. But they dead now. Can't do much shit 'bout it now, can I?"

MacFayden exhaled and rolled his eyes. "Yes, Fleckle, we got pissed an' sad when our mates died. An' shite stinks. So the fuck wot? We can't sit on our arses complainin' about how foul it smells _all_ the time, now can we? Shite stinks an' we hate it, but it ain't nothin' we got control over, so we just gotta put up with it!"

Fleckle snorted. "Nevertheless, I know some o' you wish there was a more competent leader for this tribe."

Iris chuckled and looked around at all the vermin. "You serious? Do any of us _look_ competent to lead a Juska tribe? S'far as I know, you _are_ the most competent! Which…which says a lot now that I think 'bout it. But that's just how it is."

Argyle sighed as he leaned over and rested his head on Fleckle's shoulder, moments away from passing out.

"Yous gonna be our leader 'til the day ya die, Fleckle…"

"Which might be sooner'n later!" Jaleen joked.

MacFayden let out another high-pitched cackle. The slender fox licked his lips as he rose his bottle to the Juska leader. "Don't matta. Whether we perish tomorrow or many seasons from now, we're all gunna have a hell of a time 'til that happens!"

"CHEERS!"

Fleckle stared at Jaleen as she held up her bottle of grog and nodded at him. The other beasts around him who still had grog or rum with them and weren't unconscious imitated the gesture. The stoat watched as they all downed what was left of their drinks and either belched or wiped their mouths off with their paws. A couple of them slouched over and passed out instantly while the others kept smiling at Fleckle or nodding at him. The stoat started to smile as well, his eyes nearly swelling with tears after hearing the feedback from his tribe. Maybe he wasn't the perfect leader. Maybe the Juska tribe would inevitably be wiped out in the future.

But at least now, Fleckle could take comfort in knowing that his tribe was going to stand by his side, no matter what happened.

* * *

I'll be okay, he told himself. Glud and Dirtfoot will handle it. They'll-they'll kill that bastard Kurwin; we'll have a new captain. Yes…yeah, that's right. We'll be fine. Everything will go back to the way it used to be. The grayish-black rat stared at the dim campfire in front of him and blinked. He was still clutching a bottle of rum, but at this point, it tasted like saltwater to him. The slightly inebriated rodent exhaled as he sat on the ground in the woods by himself. He looked all around the forest, trying to see if anybeast was spying on him. Maybe his eyes were betraying him. Maybe the moon wasn't giving off enough light. But all he saw was darkness, and the faint outlines of a few tree branches. Muslar panted twice as he set the bottle of rum down and rubbed his face. All he had to do was wait. Eventually the sun would come up. Eventually somebeast would come along and scream that Kurwin and Traegar were dead. Then he'd swoop in along Dirtfoot's side, proclaim himself as the new first mate. The rodent nodded to himself. It would work itself out. It always did.

Muslar listened to the cacophonous cicadas and some of the crickets making noise around the forest. He thought he'd started screaming for all the insects to be quiet, but he found it oddly comforting. There was nobeast shouting at him to raise the sails, no harsh winds blowing in his face, no raucous singing from a crew of beasts who drank way too much grog and had slurred voices. All he had were the bugs around him, and the fire crackling. The rodent was about to consume more of his rum when he heard leaves crunching in the distance. He reached for one of his throwing knives, but calmed down when he spotted a familiar weasel walking towards him. Muslar was too tired to care at this point, so he just sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes.

"Hello, Traegar."

"Hey."

The first mate stared at the rat as he held a bottle of fish head grog in his right paw. Muslar stopped rubbing his eyes and sniffled.

"Long day, eh?"

Muslar nodded. "Jus' tired, Trae. Haven't had a decent sleep in a while."

"I hear ya."

Traegar grunted as he sat down beside the rat. He took a long swig of the grog before he gulped hard and set the bottle down. Muslar kept staring at the fire ahead of him while Traegar turned and looked at the rodent's bottle of rum. Then he looked back up at Muslar and sniffed.

"So when were you gonna tell me you and Dirtfoot were plannin' on killing Kurwin?"

Muslar immediately went on alert. He turned and looked at Traegar's smug grin with wide eyes. The rat let out a soft breath before he reached for his cutlass. Traegar held up a paw.

"Relax. I'm not here to kill you."

"Ho-how the fuck d'you even know about this?!"

"Seems like Glud caved. He waltzed right into Kurwin's tent, spilled his guts. Told us everything about you three."

"Kurwin knows too?"

Traegar nodded. "He sent me here to kill you. Wanted me to do you in real slow, make it as painful as possible."

Muslar panted several times, his heart beating so fast he thought he was having a panic attack. The rat watched as Traegar drank more grog and sniffed.

"So…so why am I still alive?"

"Why d'you think? Kurwin's slippin', Muslar. We all know that. I know you and Dirtfoot were never fond of him, but I spend much more time around him than you two combined. I know how he thinks, what his plans are. We talk about certain 'issues' you and many other members of this crew are not privy to."

Traegar shook his head. "He's gotta go. He's not the strong, wise ruler he was before. That time has come and gone. That day…before this all started, you didn't see Kurwin in his cabin on that ship. I did. And what I saw was a confused, broken beast desperately trying to save himself from drowning. But the water's already filled up his lungs. It's too late for him now. Somebeast needs to euthanize him."

Muslar let out a hard breath that almost sounded like a chuckle. He watched as the weasel kept grinning and drank more grog. The rat chuckled again as he covered his eyes with one paw and rubbed his face again.

"Fuck…shit, Traegar, you almost made me shit m'self! So this-this whole time…so you understand then! You see why me an' Dirtfoot are doin' this!"

"Yer trying to save this crew. I get that. But don't think I forgot about Ishlin either. You two clowns poisoned him when we damn well could've used him."

"Ishlin was a fuckin' drunk; everybeast knows that!"

"Nevertheless, you three should've come to me before you did anything reckless."

"We-we didn't know who we could trust! We had to keep it secret—you know that! Yer his first mate! Yer the _last_ beast we'd turn to about this kind of information! Hell, we weren't sure about Glud either—look at wot happened!"

Traegar nodded. "Speaking of which, we're gonna have to do something about him. _Not_ kill him—we already lost Ishlin. We can't kill Kurwin _and_ another former captain like Glud; this mutiny will fall apart if that happens. Beasts will see us as hypocritical murderers, not vermin who truly care about this crew."

Muslar nodded as he grabbed his bottle of rum. "Yes, yes, I understand."

The rat brought the bottle up to his lips and quickly swallowed the rest of the fluids inside. He wiped his mouth off and belched deeply before he smacked his lips.

"So should we tell Dirtfoot yore with us? Wot's the next step?"

"There is no next step, _traitor_."

Muslar blinked and raised an eyebrow. The rat looked down at the empty bottle of rum. And then his eyes grew wide when he glanced back over at Traegar and saw him grinning. The weasel set his bottle of grog down and exhaled as he stood up. Muslar watched in horror as Traegar removed an empty vial from his pocket.

"Sheeka may not be a true seer, but I'll be damned if that vixen don't know a thing or two about poisons."

Muslar listened to Traegar chuckling as he slid the vial back into his pocket. The rat didn't reach for his cutlass. He didn't start screaming or begging for mercy. He just stared at the flames in front of him as his vision started to fade, and he felt weary. The rat slowly rubbed his forehead and exhaled. Muslar shut his eyes for a moment and lowered his paw. He nodded gently and started to rub his paws together.

"How much time?" he asked quietly.

Traegar shrugged. "Dunno. Five minutes maybe?"

Muslar opened his eyes and stared at the weasel. "So…how's it gonna go? Hmm? Am I gonna feel like I'm on fire inside? I'm gunna puke all over m'self, shit m'self an' make a huge mess?"

Traegar shook his head. "Yer gonna get tired and fall asleep. 'Cept you won't wake up."

"I see…"

Traegar and Muslar got quiet. The rat kept rubbing his paws together and staring at the flames while Traegar folded his arms and scowled. The weasel was waiting for Muslar to say something, but he could tell by the way the rodent looked that it was pointless. Even if he begged or lashed out at Traegar, it didn't matter. It was already done. Traegar lowered his arms and sighed softly.

"Why?" he whispered.

Muslar didn't respond. He stopped rubbing his paws and looked down at his footpaws, as if he suddenly found them captivating.

"You owe me that," Traegar growled. "What drove you and Dirtfoot into doing this?"

Muslar's eyes watered for a moment. He smiled and let out a soft chuckle as two tears ran down his face.

"We're pirates, Trae. Not conquerors. We don't belong here…we belong out on the sea. I thought…I thought you of _all_ beasts would understand."

"What I understand is loyalty. Don't matter if I agree with the captain or not. What he says goes. Beasts like you and Dirtfoot are the reason why this crew has dwindled so much."

"No. Kurwin…" Muslar shook his head and shrugged. "There's no point in wastin' me breath. M'dead anyways. But you'll see…one day…one day, you'll look back at this moment…and you'll realize I was right."

"Right about what?"

"Kurwin's gonna doom this whole crew. Yore all gunna die here…'cos ya followed him so blindly."

Muslar shuddered and rubbed his head as his vision faded even further. He struggled to keep his eyes open and felt the energy fading from his body. The rat chuckled again as more tears ran down his cheeks.

"I was always so afraid of this moment…I always thought I'd start cryin', pleadin' fer mercy. I thought maybe I'd go out in…in a blaze of glory, take out as many beasts as I could. But it's…it's calming…peaceful. Welcoming, even. Hmph…guess Dirtfoot will be joinin' me soon, eh?"

" _Very_ soon."

Muslar smirked. "Least I'll have some company."

The two beasts grew very quiet again. Traegar watched as the rat exhaled and slouched over into the grass and twigs. The weasel crouched down and stared at the rodent as his stomach rose and fell with each breath. But after a few more seconds, the rat stopped moving completely, and all Traegar could hear was the fire crackling and the bugs chirping around the woods. Traegar stared at the dead rat for a moment before he leaned over the body. He checked the rodent's neck for a pulse and grunted when he didn't feel one. Nevertheless, Traegar didn't bother taking any chances. He took out one of his knives and stuck the blade into Muslar's temple anyway, just to be sure. Then the weasel removed the knife and wiped the blood off using Muslar's clothes as a rag. Traegar stood back up and sighed nonchalantly, the fire still crackling softly behind him. Trae snorted and kicked some dirt on the fire until the flames were extinguished. And then the weasel walked away, leaving Muslar's cadaver for the insects and worms.

* * *

Dirtfoot couldn't have been happier. The moment he woke up and noticed the sun was shining down, he smirked to himself. It was a good sign—he knew the weather was telling him that things were finally looking up. Finally, he thought. Finally I can take control o' this crew. 'Bout time Kurwin "gave" the reins to somebeast else! The chubby rat sat up and yawned, already feeling his spirits flourishing. He was still thinking about it, how he should play it out. Heh…maybe I'll gasp, come out runnin', say he's been murdered. No, that won't work—we'll just be in the same situation we're in with Ishlin. The dirty searat snickered as he stood up. Maybe I'll assume command! Yeah, yeah—that'll do! As soon as everybeast figures out wot's wot, I'll take over! Muslar an' that ol' fart Glud c'n be my first mates! Yes…it's all coming together. Won't be long—

"Wot the fuck is all this bollocks?!"

Dirtfoot froze. His smirk widened even further. Already huh? Hmm…guess Glud pulled through. The rat turned and walked out into a clear section of the forest where the sun was shining down on the grass and dozens of vermin all gathered around in a circle.

"Are you serious?! How the fuck did that happen?!"

Dirtfoot knew now was the perfect time. "It's true, my fellow corsairs! We all gotta accept that!"

Everybeast got quiet after hearing Dirtfoot's booming voice. The rat forced himself to keep a straight face, but his mouth contorted into a sly smirk that most beasts failed to notice. Dirtfoot held his laughs in as he started to strut forward, wagging his tail as though walking differently meant he had absolutely power.

"Accept wot? We don't—"

"I know…I know! It's gunna be 'ard takin' in that I'm gunna be yore new cap'n! But there ain't no way 'round it! With Kurwin an' his first mate gone, I'm the new runner-up! Unless you prefer that cunt-licker Kronno or that timid-li'l twat Stinkfoot over me!"

Stinkfoot scowled at the rat and stepped forward. "Wotcha mean 'gone'? And _why_ would we agree to these ludicrous terms?"

Dirtfoot folded his arms and smirked widely. "'Cos I'm the one who slew Kurwin an' Traegar. Anybeast who's got a problem with that is more'n welcome to join 'em in Hellgates!"

Stinkfoot blinked. "Wot the hell are you talkin' about? Kurwin an' Traegar are fine!"

Dirtfoot's smirk, along with his entire world, turned upside-down. "Wot?"

"They're fine you dumb shit! Muslar is the one who's dead! I found 'im this mornin' just lyin' in the dirt! That's why I got everybeast together; I wanted everybeast to know!"

Dirtfoot's eyes widened. His bladder nearly emptied right then and there. The rat breathed softly as he began to back away. Some of the beasts in the crowd stared at Dirtfoot and took a step towards him.

"Dirtfoot… _why_ did you say Kurwin and Traegar were dead?"

The rat swallowed hard and smiled meekly. "I-I was—I-I meant ta say Muslar! Yes, yes—I, err, I-I—"

"So yer sayin' you killed Muslar instead of Kurwin and Traegar?"

"NO! Yore jus' twistin' me words around!"

More beasts began to crowd around Dirtfoot. The chubby beast kept backing away until he looked out the corner of his left eye and saw Glud leaning against a tree.

"Wot the fuck did ye do?" the rat snarled.

Glud smirked at the rodent and shook his head. "Nothin'. Nothin' wotsoever."

Dirtfoot swallowed again and kept backing away. "There's a perfectly good reason fer alla this—"

"Then by all means, please explain, Dirtfoot!"

Dirtfoot's heart went cold after hearing the booming voice behind him. The rat turned around slowly and froze when he saw the scarred ferret walking towards him. Kurwin the Flayer approached the rat with his trademark grin on his face as he reached for his hatchet.

"We're all just _dyin'_ to know the details."

Dirtfoot couldn't breathe. He couldn't think properly. All around him were beasts staring and scowling at him, trying to comprehend what he just said. Behind him was an ally who stabbed him in the back and failed to complete his task. And to his right was his foe, alive and well, and looking like he wanted to peel the flesh off his bones. He was trapped.

"Shit," Dirtfoot squeaked.


	16. Consequences

**XL**

 **Consequences**

 **A/N: Did y'all miss me? ;)**

* * *

It was hard to enjoy himself today, even with the shining sun and warm breeze against his face. He knew he should be with the others, not standing in the dank area by himself, pondering what to do for the rest of the day. The chubby hare took a few deep breaths before he rubbed his ears. His paws were still coated with mud that was drying and getting in his fur. His white coat was no longer clean, and it looked and smelled like somebeast threw clods of dung at him. His footpaws were simmering in mud so thick it almost went above his Achilles' tendons. At best, the giant tree behind him covered in hornworts was the cleanest entity in the whole swamp. Lieutenant Hollis exhaled again as he looked at the sleeves of his coat, surprised at how easily everything was covered. It wouldn't matter anyway. Supplies were low. More hares were getting sick or suffering from worsening rashes. Their Badger Lord was steadily losing his mind as each day progressed. And eight more hares had been buried, one of whom was so torn up that Hollis had to wrap his body so nobeast could see how disfigured his corpse was.

But that was okay. Nobeast knew his secret. Hollis kept staring at his arms. He turned to check and make sure nobeast was around. So the long-eared beast leaned against the tree and pulled down his left sleeve, revealing at least eleven different scars, one of which nearly went up half his arm. Hollis exhaled as he reached down and removed a dagger from his belt. He glared at it for a moment, and then looked at his arm again. Most of them were just small cuts. And he rarely went without his coat on, so nobeast knew. Nobeast would know now either. The hare slowly lowered his dagger against his left arm and blinked. He didn't puncture the skin though; he only stared at the dagger as the sunlight glimmered off the clean blade. He kept staring, telling himself to do it. Maybe another small cut would make him feel better. Maybe another huge one would kill him this time.

"Lieutenant?"

Hollis' eyes grew wide. His ears wiggled, and he turned to look towards his right. The hare exhaled and quickly moved his sleeve back down.

"Oi! Stink Mouth!"

Hollis put his dagger away before clearing his throat and walking out into the open. "Believe it or not, but even _I_ have to void my bowels, wot!"

Hollis stared at Stanno as he walked towards him sighing. "You been gone over an hour now! The fuck you out here doin'?"

"Fer your information, Sarn't, I'm tryin' to find more herbs an' mosses and wotnot so I c'n try to make more poultices and remedies! Won't be long now 'fore a lotta beasts start breakin' out in rashes in uncomfortable areas!"

Stanno rubbed his forehead and sniffed. "Sorry…I didn't mean to disturb you."

For a moment, Hollis thought about yelling at the sergeant again. But he told himself to calm down, and Hollis exhaled as he approached Stanno.

"Bah, don't worry 'bout it. S'pose we're all a bit rigid over all this bollocks that happened."

After nodding, Stanno said, "I know. That's why I'm here."

Irritation flared in Hollis' brain again. He exhaled harshly and grumbled. "I told you, I can't help Honward. This isn't somethin' a mere chat will resolve. It's gonna take a while 'afore he gets through all this."

"I'm well aware of that. I was just gonna ask if you wanna have a drink. Or…y'know, several. We got plenty of blackcurrant and elderberry wine."

It seemed like nothing but a waste of time, like giving a beast who was thirsty a drink of water, even though he or she was bleeding out and would be dead soon. Nevertheless, Hollis' throat was parched, and with Angus dead, it seemed like the Long Patrol was out of danger. For now, at least. So Hollis nodded and smiled.

"Sure mate. Can't refuse a good ol' bottle of wine, wot!"

Stanno smiled before he turned and started to walk away. Hollis stayed still and frowned again. He quickly lifted his left arm and lowered the sleeve again, gazing at the scars. Shaking his head, Hollis covered his secret before he jogged after Stanno.

* * *

Just once he'd like to wake up without somebeast on top of him. At the very least, he'd want to know in advance if somebeast planned on thrusting into him as he slept, or using his body as a mattress. And yet there he was, lying in the soil, scowling as a hefty monitor lizard snored on top of his body. The monitor lizard squashed between earth and scales snarled as he jerked himself upwards, knocking the other lizard off. Then he groaned as he sluggishly got to his knees. The light brown monitor lizard with black scales on his back looked left and saw some Guosim soldiers whispering amongst themselves as they sharpened their weapons. To his right, however, were several lizards laughing, fornicating, or devouring flesh nonchalantly. The monitor lizard stuck his tongue out for a moment as he hissed and approached the lizards munching on flesh. He kicked one of them in the side of his head and snarled.

"And why aren't you checking the perimeter?"

The other monitor lizard snarled. "Look around, Varan! No need to! We have plenty o' monitorz, pluz all theze other tazty reptilez and shrewz to 'elp uz!"

"I don't care. That'z how the enemy zneakz up on uz. They're gonna zee a buncha fat, nazty monitorz zleepin' an' fuckin' an' they're gonna ambush uz before we know it!"

The other lizard scoffed and waved Varan away. "You paranoid. Fuck off an' let uz finish our mealz!"

Before the lizard could bite down into the meat, Varan slapped it away, and then grabbed the other lizard by his throat. He squeezed so tightly the other lizard had no time to squeal; Varan brought the lazy subordinate close to his snout and hissed against his nostrils.

"You will check the perimeter, Eschelle. Now. Or I will flay you alive."

It was all he needed to say. The other lizards sitting around the campfire suddenly looked at Eschelle like he was fried meat. Eschelle gulped; Varan knew that his so-called 'friends' would turn on him should his body turn into another snack for them. Varan shoved Eschelle back so hard the other monitor grunted and bumped into a tree. Eschelle nodded.

"O-okay, okay! No need to get phyzical; I'll-I'll go check. Alla you, come with me."

One lizard protested. "But we're ztill—"

"NOW!"

Varan watched as the other five lizards who were sitting around Eschelle groaned and stood up. He waited until they gathered their spears, slings, and bows and arrows and left. Then Varan huffed as he rubbed his forehead again and walked towards the river. Frustrated, the monitor shoved his way through several bushes before he stood beside the rushing waters. Varan got on his knees and leaned down, sticking half of his muzzle into the crisp, untainted water so he could take in several mouthfuls. It wasn't until he finished slurping that he noticed a shrew with a blue headband on was glaring at him. He turned away at the last second and drank from his mug of shrewbeer. Varan blinked, drank more water, and then flicked his eyes over at the shrew again. Hmph, he thought. There was no need to put up for this. Varan snorted as he stomped over to the shrew and sniffed.

"Zomething wrong?" Varan asked.

The shrew looked up at Varan and raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"You keep looking at me. Iz zomething the matter?"

For some reason or another, the shrew scoffed and turned away. He drank more of his shrewbeer and gulped, pretending like Varan wasn't even there.

"Ye c'n leave now."

"Not until you tell me what your problem iz."

"Me problem is that the big ol' lizard standin' next t'me is assaultin' me nostrils wif' his breath. I'd appreciate it if he backed away a few feet."

Varan clenched his right paw into a fist. "I'm not like them."

The shrew glanced at Varan and smirked. He finished his shrewbeer, stood up, and looked at Varan from head to toe.

"Hmm…big ol' monitor, eats flesh, speaks with Zs instead o' Ss like regular beasts…you sure do _seem_ like all them other lizards."

Varan hissed. "Hmm…fat shrew, drinks too much beer, haz a butchered accent…you sure do _zeem_ like all them other shrewz az well."

The shrew folded his arms and sniffed. "Guess so."

Varan grinned. "It weren't my idea to approach your li'l clan."

"Don't matta. Yer here now, an' ever since ye showed up, everythin's gone ta shit."

The conversation was already heading in a direction Varan wasn't aiming for. His tongue flicked out his mouth as he suddenly got to the point.

"We're not matez. We won't ever be matez. But neither of uz iz rezponzible for our current predicament. Zo there should be no reazon for either of uz to have a grudge againzt one another. What matterz iz that we're part…hmmmm, alliez now. An' what do alliez do?"

"They dun' eat each other, fer starters."

"Yez, but what elze?"

The shrew huffed. "Why dont'cha just tell me since I know ya wanna."

"They work together, obviouzly. They put their differenzez and appearanzez azide zo they can accomplish all their goalz. That _iz_ what you want, iz it not?"

The shrew rubbed his head and sniffed. "All I want is fer Benrath to be okay, an' t'figure out wot the fuck's been goin' on these past couple weeks. How c'n I accomplish this 'goal' when my leader—"

"That'z not yer burden, nor iz it mine. We're zoldierz, nothin' more. We do what we're ordered, and we don't azk queztionz. Onze you realize that, alla thiz," said Varan, waving his paws around to show off all the lizards and shrews around him, "becomez zo much eazier to deal with. An' zince we're alliez now, we _will_ help each other get through thiz."

The shrew didn't smile or reply. Varan grinned slowly as he listened to the water flowing down the river and a few birds flapping their wings in the distance. The shrew rubbed his nose and nodded.

"What'z your name, shrew?"

"Kallin. Wot's yers?"

"Varan Dylwort."

Kallin let out a strange grunting noise. He blinked and sniffed, then turned and walked away. "I'll be seein' ya, Varan."

There was no answer from the monitor lizard. He just thumped his tail against the dirt as he watched Kallin walk away. Varan chuckled as he rubbed his chin and started to ponder.

* * *

The corpulent shrew exhaled as he sat back in his chair, his belly distended so much that his kilt and undergarments looked like they would rip from his massive girth. Log-a-Log licked the meat juices from his lips while Krassak finished slurping up the rest of his wine. The lizard swallowed hard and exhaled, while Log-a-Log laughed and scratched his groin.

"Rrrf! Damn good meal there, lizard! Dun' think I've ever used that kinda meat before!"

Krassak hissed. "Lotta beaztz don't eat the meat my monitorz eat."

Log-a-Log licked his fingers clean, knowing it was better if he didn't ask _where_ Krassak got the meat from. Once he finished, the boisterous shrew leaned forward and rubbed his paws together.

"Been thinkin'…y'know, we just had an exquisite meal just now! But none o' ya lizards or other reptiles got t'have any o' it!"

Krassak shrugged. "And yer point iz?"

"Well…I do got a map o' this forest. I know everybeast 'round these parts! Nobeast so much as passes gas without me knowin' 'bout it! There's no need fer alla us to hunt down me son and his bothersome cohorts; ye got plenty o' lizards ta do that! But we're more'n well-equipped to begin our li'l…invasion? That wot ye wanna call this?"

"'Raze' is a better definition."

"Ahhhh, yes…razing!" The Shrew Chieftain giggled as he stood up from his chair and began to pace back and forth slowly, his stomach sloshing with each step he took.

"Did you have a location in mind?"

"Ohhhh, I dunno," the Chieftain said, shrugging. "Jus' a li'l camp…settlement mainly. It's not a huge community, but big enough fer anybeast t'know 'bout it, to head there for 'rehabilitation,' as they call it."

Krassak leaned forward and hissed. "Go on."

"This community is filled with cunts. Lots an' lotsa useless cunts ruinin' me rivers. It's a…kinda like a retreat females go to who don't got a home. Females who need a place to stay. Females who—"

"A female's shelter, Chieftain?"

Log-a-Log laughed and snapped his fingers. "Aye lad! A female's shelter—I lost the word fer a second! Anyways, this female's shelter is in me way. This female's shelter is _full_ of 'fresh food' fer yer lizards to eat. And it's full of wretched cunts fer yer lizards t'stick their cocks into. Or rub their cunts against other cunts—that's-that's how cunt-lickers have sex, aye? They just rub 'em shits together?"

Krassak blinked. "Yez, amongzt other thingz. What'z yer point?"

"Simple! We attack this female's shelter! We burn it down, take a third as our slaves, kill the other third, use the final third to fuel yer army's bellies!"

"Why not juzt kill 'em all and uze 'em all fer food?"

"Bah, ya ain't thinkin' outside the box, lizard! Females are s'posed t'serve us _males_ ; that's their place in this world. The females in this shelter need to be 'reminded' that they exist so they c'n give us more sons, so they c'n make us food, so they c'n wash our clothing."

Krassak chuckled. "An' they need to be reminded to lay ztill when we fuck 'em, right?"

Log-a-Log spat on the floor and snorted. "I'd rather cut me own cock off 'afore I stick it in some cunt!"

Krassak grinned widely as he folded his arms. "You zeem to have a zertain 'attitude' towardz femalez. A rather _strange_ attitude."

"Hmph! All I know is if'n ya ain't got a cock an' balls, yer worthless. It's our duty t'remind these females their place in life, is it not?"

"Zo…bottom line iz we destroy thiz shelter fer both our benefitz."

"Precisely! I will personally go on ahead an' enter this shelter, greet 'em, get 'em ta lower their guards. Then I'll signal yer troops fer when it's time to attack, and I'll sabotage their defenses from within! If we attack 'em head-on, we'll be up against o'er twoscore beasts, prob'ly more."

It only took Krassak a couple of seconds before he was on board with Log-a-Log's plan. After the obese shrew finished, Krassak stood up and wagged his tail. "I'll inform my troopz of yer planz. You juzt get uz there az quickly az pozzible."

Before Krassak could walk out Log-a-Log's hut, the shrew cleared his throat and grabbed the monitor's shoulder. Krassak turned around and hissed gently at him.

"What?"

"Since I brought it up before…have yer reptiles found me son an' his gang o' thieves yet?"

Growling, Krassak shook his head. "Ilyan reported back to uz, zaid they were headin' northeazt. Az much az I'd love t'roazt him over a fire, my znakez can't zcout around theze woodz like birdz can."

"Did he sound off ta ye?"

Krassak shrugged. "Prolly waz juzt zcared of bein' around my army."

Log-a-Log rubbed his chin and grumbled. "Send some o' ye troops northwest too, just in case. Wouldn't be surprised if'n he lied to ye."

"Already did. Ztill got znakez wanderin' around there too. It shouldn't—"

"Just tell 'em to hurry the fuck up, awright? The sooner my son's dead, the better!"

Krassak's tongue flicked out his mouth. "Why? Yer zon got a big mouth, Chieftain? Hehehe, I'm sure you know _all_ about how big hiz maw can get."

Log-a-Log scowled. "Shut ye fuckin' mouth."

"Rowgat told me all about what you did to yer zon that night…didn't know you two had such a zpecial 'bond.' Are you alwayz on top, or do you two—"

Log-a-Log reached for his rapier, which prompted Krassak to do the same for his weapon. He grinned. "Liabilitiez. Can't have thoze when yer ruler of this forezt. Zurely zomebeazt az zmart and rezourzeful az you should know that. Juzt becauze you only have one tiny weed growin' in your garden don't mean nobeazt elze iz gonna zpot it. All it takez iz one tiny, inzignificant weed to ruin yer perfect garden. Pull it out."

Log-a-Log scoffed. "That's the thing, lizard. Pull out one weed, then ye gots whole 'notha batch o' 'em messin' up yer garden!"

"Zo find the zourze of theze weedz and destroy it. Or it won't be long before you ain't got a garden at all."

Krassak Ralfur lowered his guard and smiled. Then he turned and walked outside the hut, leaving Log-a-Log by himself to ponder. Fuck do he know, the shrew thought. Log-a-Log paced back and forth again, muttering to himself as he plotted. Krassak kept going on and on about gardens and weeds, yet failed to mention how he owned an orchard that undermined Log-a-Log's puny garden. And there was nothing Log-a-Log could do but sit there and watch as everybeast fawned over Krassak's beautiful orchard while his was ignored. Log-a-Log leaned against the wall and sniffed. And then a sly smirk came on his face. Yes, he had a bunch of weeds growing in his garden. And yes, Krassak's orchard clearly looked better than Log-a-Log's garden.

There was no reason why he shouldn't be able to pull out the weeds _and_ burn down Krassak's orchard.

* * *

"We're waitin', Dirtfoot. Explain!" Kurwin shouted.

Murmurs erupted from the crowd of vermin. He knew he was trapped; there was no way around it. All he could do now was spin the story his way, pray that everybeast sided with him. So Dirtfoot took a few small breaths, and then he sniffled.

"See? This is wot he does! This is wot he-he's always been doin'! Don't matter if we do wot he says or-or follow his rules an' shit! All he cares about is control an' power, an' he'll backstab or murder any a' us if we're in his way!"

Kurwin shrugged. "I don't deny that."

"As I expected! How long is it gunna be 'afore—"

"Dirtfoot, you _still_ haven't answered. Why the fuck d'you say Kurwin an' Trae were already dead?"

Dirtfoot glared at Stinkfoot and the other creatures surrounding him. Then he snarled at Kurwin, who was leaning against one of the trees with a large smirk on his face.

"'Cos…'cos I tried ta kill 'em, awright?! Ya fuckers happy now?!"

More gasps and murmurs rose from the crowd. Various beasts started to pull out their weapons, ready to draw blood from the rat. Dirtfoot backed away; he reached down and grasped his cutlass as well. For a moment, he thought somebeast would come along and try to defend him. Maybe somebeast would agree; maybe somebeast would stick up for him. But nearly everybeast in the crowd was barring their teeth at him or approaching him, ready to cut his head off.

"Fucker."

"Shoulda just killed ya a long time ago!"

"I say we cut out his entrails an' hang 'im from the trees! Let the crows have a go at 'im!"

Despite everything that was happening, it was Kurwin, of all beasts, who saved Dirtfoot. He held up a paw and stepped forward, and some of the clamoring beasts quieted down at their captain's requests.

"Now, now, let's not be uncivilized here!" Kurwin said. He glared at Dirtfoot and grinned. "Let Dirtfoot speak."

Stinkfoot snarled. "Wot for?! This turncoat just admitted—"

"Shut up, Stinkfoot," barked Kurwin, before laughing. "Keep goin', Dirtfoot. Everybeast is waitin'!"

The rat glared at Kurwin again and noticed he was still grinning confidently. Fuckin' twat, Dirtfoot said inwardly. He knew he had him. He knew he was a dead beast. Kurwin was just toying with him, taking pleasure in knowing that the rat's head would soon be on a pike. Dirtfoot breathed heavily as he looked at all the other pirates glaring at him, either growling or seconds away from attacking him with their vicious weapons. And yet, Dirtfoot still tried to keep calm. There had to be a way out of this; something _had_ to happen to make this work in Dirtfoot's favor.

"…I had to," said Dirtfoot, trying to sound sympathetic. "He…he's gon' be the death o' us! Ye all know that! Everybeast in-in this crew knows it! So yes, I-I tried ta kill 'im! Had to kill Traegar too; ye all know their bond is inseparable! So-so I plotted. And-and…and I told m'self, 'Dirtfoot, stop bein' a useless cunt! Show this crew yer balls an-an' take action!' So I did. I…it was an accident—collateral damage! I, um…I stole one of Sheeka's potions, poisoned some wine. Ishlin…"

Dirtfoot scratched the back of his head awkwardly while a ferret scowled at him.

"You son of a bitch. You killed Ishlin, didn't you?"

Dirtfoot scoffed. "Like I said, collateral damage! Not like anybeast gon' miss that drunk fuck anyhow! Point is, I tried ta kill 'im, it went south! Tried ta kill 'im again, went south again! So now here we are! …Ye all know why I did it—no, why it _has_ to be done! Don't ya see? With Kurwin gone, we'll-we'll be free! We'll be able t'do wotever the fuck we wanna do! We-we c'n go back out ta sea! We…isn't that wot ye all want?"

"Not if'n it means slayin' Kurwin, ya dumb cunt," Kronno snarled.

Dirtfoot stammered. He backed away from the crowd slowly, not noticing the fluids that were staining his trousers and running down his legs. Kurwin glared at the dirty rat before he exhaled with annoyance.

"You done now?"

Dirtfoot gazed at Kurwin's sly, overconfident smirk again. His left eye twitched, and Dirtfoot felt something inside of him snap. Before anybeast could take action, Kurwin rubbed his forehead and grabbed his cutlass with his right paw.

"Get yer cutlass out. I'm fed up with all this shit."

Dirtfoot did as he was told, gritting his teeth and nearly foaming at the mouth, his fear now replaced with rage.

"Cap'n, wot're ye doin'?! Jus' execute—"

"No," said Kurwin, interrupting Kronno. "I'm fed up with all this secrecy, all this gabble o' mutiny, all these whispers an' plottin' behind me back! So…we're gonna settle this properly! A duel between me an' Dirtfoot! Whichever beast comes out alive is the new captain of this crew, no questions asked!"

Kurwin knew clamoring and protests would ensue from everybeast. Dirtfoot grinned widely as he stared at his foe, then spat on the ground and approached the ferret. He drowned out all the other pirates screaming and protesting; he knew everybeast wanted to execute him right on the spot. But that didn't matter. Nothing else mattered. All he knew was that Kurwin had to die. Today.

"Guess ye do got some stones left in ya. I'm surprised," Dirtfoot said.

Kurwin grabbed his hatchet with his left paw. "You truly are the dumbest beast in this crew. Even if I lose—which I won't, d'ye _really_ think anybeast will let that stand? As soon as I'm dead, Traegar, Kronno, Stinkfoot, any one o' them beasts o'er there is gonna put you down 'afore you got time ta blink. _You've lost, Dirtfoot_. Least have the brains to admit that much."

Dirtfoot spat on the ground again. "Fuck you! If I end up in Hellgates today…"

Dirtfoot snarled as he jogged towards Kurwin, sword raised.

"YER COMIN' WITH ME!"

Steel clashed against steel, and everybeast in Kurwin's crew grew quiet. Kurwin took a few steps backwards while Dirtfoot attacked first, attacking high before aiming for his stomach. The rat raised his paw, and Kurwin ducked and swiped at Dirtfoot's legs. The rat yelped and nearly tripped, giving Kurwin time to charge forward. He swung his cutlass, then his hatchet, and then grunted when Dirtfoot jabbed his cutlass forward. Kurwin dodged the jab attack swiftly, only to shout when Dirtfoot immediately crouched and swiped at Kurwin's left leg. Bleeding, Kurwin backed away again and tossed his hatchet at Dirtfoot. Instinctively, Dirtfoot lifted his paws and blocked the weapon, giving Kurwin enough time to run forward so he could slice Dirtfoot's arm. Dirtfoot howled as his arm began to bleed, while Kurwin just smirked at him.

"Yer move," he taunted.

There was no point in playing his games. Dirtfoot snarled as he sprinted forward, swinging his cutlass haphazardly in hopes of catching Kurwin off-guard. The ferret backed away slowly, checking his footing and making sure he didn't step on anything that would trip him. Each time the blades clanged, Kurwin would wince and his grip would loosen more and more. For a moment, Dirtfoot thought he saw Kurwin wincing, as if he was about to drop his weapon. Before that could happen, Kurwin rolled out of the way and swung his sword sideways, nearly cutting at the rodent's kidney. Breath exploded out of Dirtfoot's mouth as he looked over his shoulder and spotted the fallen hatchet. He sprinted for it and snatched it off the ground, just as Kurwin got close to him and nearly cut his head in half. Dirtfoot yelped and jerked his head backwards before he snarled and swung the hatchet forward, causing Kurwin to go on the defensive. All of the other pirates kept watching the spectacle with bated breath, waiting to see when one of the beasts would make a mistake.

"We gotta help him," Stinkfoot murmured.

Traegar held Stinkfoot back with his right arm and shook his head. "He'll be fine."

Dirtfoot panted as he chased after the ferret, watching as he jumped and moved backwards, refusing to attack the rodent. He swung his cutlass twice; Kurwin ducked twice. He swung the hatchet vertically three times, and each time Kurwin sidled out the way. Frustration brewed over Dirtfoot's mind, and he screamed as he jumped up and tried to drive the hatchet into Kurwin's skull. Kurwin exhaled as he backed away, grunting when he found himself pressed against a tree. Dirtfoot grinned as he stomped towards Kurwin and swung the hatchet. He expected to drive the hatchet into Kurwin's skull. Instead, it created a deep, wooden thunk as the blade sank into the tree. Dirtfoot frowned as Kurwin grinned and approached him. Gritting his teeth, Dirtfoot jerked his arm as he grasped the handle, but the hatchet didn't come free. The rat swore and ran backwards as Kurwin attacked him again. Footwork went against Dirtfoot; the rat panted and kept walking backwards as he defended himself, not paying attention to the roots sticking out of the ground. He tripped over a few of them and grunted; Kurwin ran forward and swung his sword low. Dirtfoot shouted as he rolled out the way, and the ferret's weapon cut the roots in half.

"Put yer sword down, Dirtfoot," Kurwin huffed. "I'll make it simple—"

Kurwin shouted when Dirtfoot charged forward and tried to thrust his sword into his stomach. More clanging ensued before Dirtfoot sprinted towards the hatchet again and tried to remove the weapon. He knew how to catch Kurwin off-guard; this would all work out if Kurwin played right into his trap. Frustrated, Dirtfoot chucked his cutlass at Kurwin's face, and the ferret shouted as he dropped to the ground. The rat sprinted forward just as Kurwin was about to stand on his footpaws again. Dirtfoot made it seem like he was going for the fallen sword, prompting Kurwin to step over it. Dirtfoot crouched down and tried to pick it up, but Kurwin kicked it away and grinned at his foe. And then screamed when Dirtfoot removed a hidden knife from his back pocket and thrust it into Kurwin's abdomen. Relief washed over Dirtfoot. For such a long time, he thought about killing Kurwin and taking over his crew, and now it was finally going to happen. He couldn't help but grin in Kurwin's face as he gripped the knife tightly, feeling some of the pirate's blood oozing onto his fingers.

Kurwin lifted his cutlass again, but Dirtfoot grabbed his arm, and the two beasts grunted as they stood in place and wrestled over the lethal sword. Using his other paw, Dirtfoot removed the knife and tried to stab Kurwin again, but Kurwin grabbed Dirtfoot's wrist and dug his claws into his skin. Wincing, Dirtfoot's grip loosened, and the rat head-butted Kurwin, causing him to back away. Kurwin's grip on his sword loosened as well, and Dirtfoot immediately retrieved it and slashed at Kurwin's chest. The ferret screamed again as his tunic ripped and the blade tore through his fur and skin. Panting, the ferret ran over and picked up the cutlass that had been dropped earlier, and then hollered when Dirtfoot tackled him down a hill. Both vermin grunted as they tumbled a few feet and scratched up their bodies. Kurwin grunted as he slammed head first into a log while Dirtfoot screamed when he ended up stabbing himself just above his right thigh. It was only a scratch, he told himself. Dirtfoot grunted and removed the bloody knife from his flesh as he started to look for Kurwin again.

A beast roared ferociously behind Dirtfoot, and before he could attack Kurwin, the ferret was already latched to his back. Hot breath blasted against Dirtfoot's left ear as Kurwin opened his mouth. Saliva ran into the rodent's filthy, wax-crusted ear as Kurwin bit down hard. And then Dirtfoot screeched as he lost half his hearing altogether. He could feel all the warm fluids running down the side of his head, and he knew at least part of his ear—if not half of it—was missing now. The screaming rat turned around, just in time for Kurwin to spit the remains of his ear into his face. Dirtfoot shouted as he swung at Kurwin violently, waiting for the old beast to falter. He had been stabbed and slashed; he was bound to make a mistake sooner or later. Then he saw it: Kurwin stumbled backwards. Dirtfoot let out a bloody cry as he lunged forward again and swung his sword at Kurwin's head. His blade only sliced through air.

While Kurwin ducked and swiftly jammed his cutlass into Dirtfoot's fat stomach. Dirtfoot's eyes widened as he felt the massive blade pierce his stomach, slicing right through some of his organs and emerging from his back. Saliva exploded from his mouth, and the rat wheezed as fat, blood, and even small traces of bile started to leak from his wound. _Fucker_ , Dirtfoot thought. Still gripping his sword, Dirtfoot sliced at Kurwin's face, and the captain shouted as the rat placed another ghastly scar on his already battered head. Kurwin fell to the ground and didn't get up while Dirtfoot fell to his knees and started to breathe heavily. He dropped his cutlass and grabbed the handle of the sword sticking out of his torso. Grunting and whimpering, he slowly started to pull it out, gasping and coughing as the blade continued to tear through his flesh. He had just finished removing the cutlass with a soft squelch when Kurwin was back on top of him. The vermin shouted and snarled at each other, wrestling around and clawing at each other's faces as they tried to subdue one another.

One moment, Kurwin was on top, snarling and salivating, digging his thumbs against Dirtfoot's eyes. The next Dirtfoot was on top, pressing his knee down on Kurwin's stab wound so he could hear him scream. He punched him several times before Kurwin reached over and grasped a small amount of dirt. He chucked it up into Dirtfoot's face, blinding him as the soil got into his eyes. He used the brief moment of relief to snatch Dirtfoot's right paw so he could bite down on his fingers. Dirtfoot only winced at first, and then screamed when he heard multiple pops and jerked his paw upwards, sans three fingers. There was nothing the rat could do but exclaim as he looked at his deformed paw and the blood gushing from where his fingers used to be. Kurwin silenced him with a swift punch to his gut, and the rat toppled backwards when Kurwin shoved him off. Gurgling and coughing up blood, Dirtfoot gradually rolled back over onto his belly. He could see the fallen weapons still lying on the ground, not far from reach.

"No…ya fuckin' cunt…" Dirtfoot grunted as he dragged himself forward with his left arm. "Mine…crew's _mine_ ," he snarled.

He didn't seem clear in the head anymore. If he had been, he would've noticed that Kurwin was already up and had already retrieved his cutlass.

"Nobeast…nobeast will get…in my—"

Dirtfoot grunted when Kurwin impaled him in the back. The ferret scowled as he saw the blood spreading around the ground and the rodent's back. He spat on the beast's corpse before removing the blade and dragging his footpaws along the dirt. Kurwin retrieved the other cutlass and Dirtfoot's knife before he sluggishly climbed back up the hill. As he moved, more blood ran down his face, and the wound in his abdomen continued to worsen. Some of the red fluids were staining his trousers, and the captain was struggling to see straight. He limped slightly as he moved, but there was no need to pay attention to it. Once Kurwin was back uphill, he coughed up some blood and staggered towards the tree where his hatchet was. He grabbed the handle and jerked his paw backwards multiple times until the wood cracked and broke. The hatchet slipped free, and the ferret nearly fell down after reclaiming it. He turned to face his crew and saw them all staring at him with wide eyes.

"CAPTAIN!" somebeast shouted.

Instinctively, Kurwin turned and slid to his right, mere seconds before Dirtfoot had the chance to impale him with a thick, broken stick that had a pointed end. He didn't know how Dirtfoot was still alive, or why he didn't just lie still and bleed out. The ferret rectified that when he sliced open Dirtfoot's torso, revealing some of his innards. Dirtfoot howled as more fluids began to spill out of his gut, and then went deathly silent after hearing a meaty thunk. The rat grunted and moved his wide eyes around, determined to discover the source of the strange noise. He saw something obscuring his vision but didn't know what it was. Still in shock, Dirtfoot reached up and tried to pry Kurwin's hatchet from his skull. The realization finally sank in when Kurwin removed it for him, exposing part of his skull. And then his head came off completely when Kurwin sliced through Dirtfoot's neck with his cutlass. Kurwin watched as the severed head rolled near his footpaws and the rest of Dirtfoot's body crumbled and leaked more blood into the soil. Smirking, Kurwin picked up the severed head, turned around, and gradually approached his crew.

The air was silent. Nobeast so much as murmured or even cheered after Dirtfoot was decapitated. Several beasts were grinning with delight, but Kurwin couldn't help but notice that something felt off with the other beasts, as if they were holding their tongues. He stood in front of the crowd and tossed the head against the ground, watching as it rolled around and spread more blood against the grass. Then the bleeding ferret rubbed his sweaty, bloody forehead and sniffed.

"I…I know how hard it is," he started. "I know it can be hard, havin' to lissen to some other beast, t'follow in his footsteps, to do everythin' he says without question…"

"Ca-cap'n…you should really get—"

Kurwin held up a paw, signaling Glud to close his mouth. "Communication means everythin'! I am yer leader. I make decisions fer this crew. If you or anybeast else does not agree with my decisions, tell me so! Politely, but please inform me of-of wotever grievances you may have. We will…" Kurwin paused and winced. He panted a few times before he smiled again and continued. "We'll discuss our 'issues' in an orderly manner, until we both come to an agreement. Wot…wot happened here, jus' now, was nothin' more than a result of poor communication. Poor communication kills—that's-that's some sayin', ain't that right? Dirtfoot disagreed with my orders. He refused to…"

Kurwin had to stop himself from falling over. He knew he was still bleeding profusely, but he needed to get his point across.

"He refused…to come to me privately, to talk things out. Instead, the fucker tried to kill me. An' in the process, he killed Ishlin. Muslar…Muslar was the same; he refused to communicate! That's why he was also slain last night. Y'see, this-this lack of communication continued to grow an' grow, and eventually turned into mutiny! Now…I-I know I may seem harsh at times, but trust me: if you have a problem, just tell me! I assure you, we will be able to come up with a solution!"

Kurwin still smiled widely as he kicked Dirtfoot's head. "Except, of course, mutiny. There's only one solution to that problem: execution. So…for the sake of clarity, is there anybeast here who agreed with Dirtfoot and believes that I shouldn't be captain?"

Kurwin slammed his cutlass down, piercing Dirtfoot's skull and brain. His benevolent smile turned into a sinister grin. Everybeast kept quiet or flicked their eyes between Dirtfoot's body and his mutilated head.

"Please! I implore you all to speak up!"

He stabbed the head again, never losing his smile as he looked back and forth between all his crewmates. Nobeast answered.

"Good! Now then, alla ya rest fer today, an' forget about this traitorous filth. We move out tomorrow."

Kurwin kicked Dirtfoot's head one last time before he limped his way to his tent. After he disappeared past the flaps, the bleeding, panting ferret lowered his arms and dropped his hatchet. Traegar rushed inside panting as well.

"Cap'n, the healers are—"

"I don't…I don't need healers," Kurwin whispered.

The pirate's cutlass slipped from his fingers as well. He blinked twice as he approached his cot, leaving a trail of blood on the ground.

"Hah…jus' need s'more grog…an' lotsa sleep…lots…"

Kurwin chuckled as he stared at the cot. And then he collapsed.


	17. Good Beasts

**XLI**

 **Good Beasts**

 **A/N: So, bit of explanation explaining my (almost) year-long disappearance. Long story short, I was in college. And, I have a job. And, TV Tropes exists.**

 **To answer Joe's question, yes, this story does have a bleak tone to it. It doesn't really** _ **need**_ **it, but it's essentially just preference. Throughout all of** _ **Redwall**_ **'s history, hundreds if not thousands of goodbeasts have been put in peril, to the point where an army of cannibals was incorporated into the franchise. Given the sheer amount of danger that seems to be present, I wanted to make a story a bit more realistic, and darker, and a lot more morally conflicting. My intention was making a** _ **Redwall**_ **story that has the same tone as** _ **Game of Thrones**_ **or** _ **A Song of Ice and Fire**_ **.**

 **I do understand that the story has gotten a bit** _ **too**_ **bleak—something I myself pointed out shortly after Tike got killed. And I'm still in the process of toning down how dour the story is, hence why these past few chapters have focused more on character growth instead of blatantly offing as many characters as possible. And this chapter is more of the same, so no need to worry about any of your favorite characters dying.**

 **Not yet anyway. ;)**

* * *

It had to be a good sign. Even after all that happened, the weather was still uplifting, and nobeast had bothered to avenge Muslar or Dirtfoot's deaths. Traegar stood outside in front of the tent, watching as the rest of the pirates continued training and examining their gear for when they prepared to move. Blinking, the weasel looked up into the canopy after he heard a few birds tweeting in the distance. He kept expecting to see the hooded crow come back, but he figured the winged beast was still traveling or trying to avoid becoming prey for other vermin in the area. Traegar looked back down at the ground and started tossing his trusty knife up and down, waiting impatiently for the medic to return from the captain's tent. Somebeast coughed a few feet away; Traegar glanced to his right and saw Stinkfoot sweating.

"He'll be fine. Stop worryin'."

Stinkfoot shrugged. "Force of habit. Too much shit's happened as of late. Surprised all this stress ain't done the cap'n in already."

Trae chuckled. "After all the shit we've been through, you really think that fucker Dirt…hmph, Gratlin, is gonna do 'im in?"

Stinkfoot raised an eyebrow. "Gratlin?"

"No point in callin' Gratlin Steggen by his nickname no more. Cocksucker don't deserve it."

"Does _anybeast_ deserve t'be called 'Dirtfoot'?"

Traegar looked at Stinkfoot and grinned. "Dunno. Why dont'cha bend over an' smell yer footpaws, let us know if'n you deserve your nickname?"

Stinkfoot let out an awkward cough and looked away. There was a brief silence, and then a black-furred ferret clad in a blue tunic and gray shorts walked out of the tent exhaling. Traegar and Stinkfoot both turned and looked at her, waiting for answers.

"Well? How is he?"

The ferret shrugged. "He ain't dead."

A wide grin spread across Traegar's face. "Figured as much."

"I ain't say that were good news."

The two beasts kept staring at the ferret, puzzled. "Why is that _bad_ news?"

"'Cos he's old. Old 'nuff ta be me fuckin' grandfather. D'ya really think getting impaled with a sword wouldn't do 'im no damage?"

Traegar exhaled and folded his arms. "Fine then. Explain."

"Nothin' to explain mate. Like I said, he ain't dead, an' we should be grateful for that. But his body's old an' starting to rot. All the stress, combined with his age, the blood he lost, and all his previous injuries—he's all fucked up."

"But he is not dead, Alovayne. That is what matters," growled Trae, stressing every syllable.

Alovayne glared at Traegar and rubbed her white muzzle. "No, he ain't. But we can't let this shit happen again. Another skirmish like that, an' I can promise ye that he _won't_ make it."

Stinkfoot exhaled and pinched the bridge of his muzzle. "Perfect."

"Any good news then?" Traegar asked.

"It's been real quiet lately. None of the scouts 'ave seen anybeast followin' us. No reptiles, no landlubbers; seems like we're in the clear right now. Which means we got a couple a' days to rest and relax until the Cap'n wakes up."

Admittedly, that was good news. In less than a week, the crew had lost three captains. Even though two of them were traitors, it didn't change the fact that Kurwin's inner circle had been reduced to just Traegar, Stinkfoot, Kronno, and Glud. They could use a couple more days to relax, gather food and supplies, and reassign some of the vermin into different groups. Traegar and Stinkfoot weren't pleased with Kurwin's state of health, but Alovayne was right. He wasn't dead, but Muslar and Dirtfoot—or rather Gratlin—were.

At the end of the day, that was all that mattered.

* * *

It was a surprise to see the large coalition of vermin spread out around the beach. As the hooded crow flew around the North Shores with his black wings spread, he examined the vast army before approaching his target. There was a tent large enough to hold a small battalion of soldiers, if not more—the crow assumed it was a medical or sleeping tent. Various soldiers were on the ground training, practicing with their shields and weaponry that had been stolen from countless victims. Judging by the various fires in the sand, all the beasts were roasting copious amounts of fish and birds they captured from the sea and air, hence why nobeast had tried to shoot him out the sky yet. When the crow landed in the sand, he was surprised when nobeast immediately ganged up on him and tried to slay him on the spot. The crow blinked as he listened to the waves crashing into the sandy beach and felt the salty sea air blowing against his head. Turning his head, the bird glared at all the vermin and shouted.

"Rilus O'Granger!"

A few beasts turned and looked at the crow, then smirked at him and resumed carrying on with their training. The crow huffed and walked around in the sand.

"Rilus O'Granger! I must speak with him!"

The crow's eyes widened when a spear went in-between his legs, nearly tearing through his right leg. Legs shaking, the bird began to ponder whether or not he misjudged the vermin and that they planned on killing him after all. Before the crow could open his beak again, a white-furred feline stood up, his body thick with dark green armor. The tall, pointy-eared beast stared at him with his yellow eyes and hissed as he approached the bird.

"Rilus has no use for birds, unless he is eating them." The cat stood in front of the crow and rubbed his whiskers. "Or unless he is feeding those birds to his army."

The bird swallowed. "Tell-tell Rilus…tell him that his good friend, Kurwin, wishes to see him! He-he has a plan; he wants to meet up with him on the Northern Shores!"

"And why should I believe that…erm…"

"It's-it's Lasskin, sah."

"Why should I believe the words of Lasskin the Crow? Seems to me like Lasskin would be more useful in my stomach."

Lasskin chuckled when he heard the cat purr and saw him release his claws. "Believe me…I would not risk becoming cat food if this weren't important. All I'm askin' is that you relay this message from me—and-and that you don't kill me afterwards!"

The feline stared at the white and black bird before he backed away and nodded. "Fair enough. I suppose it's the least I can do. Wait here while I go fetch my master."

There was nothing the crow could do but wait. He resorted to flying around in the sky again; at least above the crowd, he could see whether or not somebeast was trying to ambush him from behind. While Lasskin flew around and waited for the feline to return, the armored beast headed towards one of the caverns at the base of the mountains. Before he even got inside, the smell hit him. An acrid scent of smoke and burning materials had filled the cavern. The feline scrunched up his face before he grunted and stepped on tiny pebbles. Or rather, he stepped on what used to be a huge boulder, until his leader figured out a way to turn the giant rock into small debris. Somebeast's voice echoed throughout the caves, a high-pitched, almost child-like voice. Giggling ensued, and the cat thought he was about to walk in on a young beast playing with some toys. But then muffled grunts and groans mixed in with the giggles, and the cat knew his leader was up to his old tricks again. Using the torches hanging against the walls, the feline was able to make his way into the center of the much-more spacious cavern.

"Rilus? Rilus, we got—"

"SSH! Watch! Watch, watch, watch—I'm almost ready! S'gunna be wunnerful, Kollos!"

Kollos snorted and folded his arms as he gazed at the tall, slender, effeminate weasel in his striped gray and blue shirt and baggy pantaloons. The lanky creature grinned widely as he looked over at Kollos, his yellow teeth and eyes almost shining in the poorly-lit cave. After looking at Rilus briefly, he turned and saw a naked otter sitting on the ground, gagged with his paws tied behind his back. Rilus giggled again as he turned back around and set a small container down on the ground between the otter's legs. Rilus growled as he reached down and groped the aquatic mammal.

"Such a shame mate! Got a good pair down there!"

"Somethin' important's come up, Rilus," Kollos growled.

"SHH! Watch, Sir Kollos! Watch as I demonstrate my craft on living flesh this time!"

Kollos backed away several paces, whilst Rilus giggled incessantly as he grabbed a torch and lowered it towards a rope soaked in oil that led right to the container. It only took a few sparks before the rope was lit, at which point Rilus sprinted towards Kollos so he was away from the otter. The otter kept grunting and tried to break free, but after a few seconds, the hissing flame made its way to the container. What ensued afterwards was the most tremendous, baffling event that Kollos had even seen before. The container emitted a loud noise and ruptured violently, sending sparks, smoke, and even fire all over the cave. Kollos had only ever heard such a noise from cannonballs, but he never saw it happen before on land. And just like a cannonball, the resulting explosion tore the otter's body apart. By the time the smoke cleared, and Rilus and Kollos' hearing came back, Rilus jumped in the air and hooted with joy.

"IT WORKED! THIS PRECIOUS POWDER WORKED!"

Rilus laughed raucously as he sprinted towards the otter's mangled corpse, surprised to see that the legs had been blown clear off and the pelvis had shattered. Half of the beast's lower body was charred and leaking fluids and flesh all over the ground; the organs were exposed and sizzling, emitting a nauseating odor. Kollos coughed several times as he approached the weasel and cleared his throat.

"Fuckin' hell, Rilus. How much powder did you use?"

"Not much! Not much at all! Ohhhhh…lookit, Kollos! Lookit what it did to him!"

Kollos was so surprised at how torn up the otter was that he almost forgot about Lasskin's message. "Shit mate…erm. Anyways, you wanna hear about that message now?"

Rilus crouched down and held his paws over the sizzling corpse, warming them up as though it were a fire. "By all means!"

"Some crow came by not long ago. Said you got a real good friend named Kurwin?"

And just like that, Rilus immediately forgot about the cadaver and was in Kollos' face. He smiled again and started wagging his tail.

"Kurwin? Kurwin the Flayer, ya say? That salty ole fart is still livin'?"

The cat shrugged. "Guess so. Bird said that Kurwin wants ta meet up with you by the North Shores."

Another laugh rose from Rilus maw, so much so that Kollos had to rub some spittle from his face. The lanky weasel clapped Kollos on his back and sniffed.

"Then there's no time ta waste! We're headin' out now, Kollos! Hehe, if Kurwin wants ta see me, then I _know_ that conniving fucker's got somethin' brewin' in his devious li'l mind!"

"Should we really trust—"

"Absolutely! Now go! Go, go, go—tell alla beasts we're movin' out by dusk!"

Rilus wagged his tail merrily as he watched Kollos head for the exit. Just before he was out of Rilus' hearing range, the weasel growled and rubbed his chin.

"Oh, and do let my troops know how volatile that black powder is when they move it. Wouldn't want a li'l 'accident' to occur during our travels."

Kollos looked back at Rilus' smug grin and nodded. "Yes, sir."

Rilus didn't move just yet. He was still amazed at his stunning discovery over how dangerous the black powder was. The weasel remained in the cave and rubbed his paws together, already plotting the various shenanigans he and Kurwin would get into.

* * *

He didn't want to go outside. It was much safer inside the tent. Much more pleasing, more comfortable. All he needed was himself and his thoughts. Perhaps one day he'd get lost in them forever and never snap back to reality. The hare sat still, his clothing and fur riddled with mud and other filth, his footpaws and paws blistered and discolored. None of that mattered. What mattered now was how often he stole his friend's dessert when he wasn't looking. His primary concern was when everybeast heard his beautiful singing voice and clapped for him. What mattered was that, no matter how many times he got angry with him, he always forgave him and stood by his side. Right now, more than anything, all that—

"Hon."

It came back. His mind cleared. He blinked and looked around the tent, and then his eyes watered. Memories. That's all they were now. And Stanno Langrove had to disrupt them.

"Hon…lissen mate," he said softly, and carefully. "We got some, uh…some-some wine. May as well use it now 'fore we don't get the chance. Couple other hares gonna join me. Maybe you could…y'know."

Honward didn't say anything. He still hadn't spoken since Tike had been killed. Stanno waited and held onto the tent flap, blinking and expecting Hon to do something. But all he could do was lower his ears and moan gently. Stanno closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Please…Tike was my mate too, Hon. I'm upset…we're _all_ upset. But wot else can we do? Corporal Bonson is dead. So is his killer. Wot-wot else can we do, Hon?"

Hon didn't answer. Stanno huffed.

"Come out. C'mon, it's sunny out; maybe it'll perk you up a bit. Sittin' in the dark won't bring him back."

Honward finally moved. He shifted gently and turned his head just far enough so Stanno could see his face. Stanno frowned when he saw the pain and tears in his eyes, and he felt a chill in his spine when he noticed that Hon was scowling at him, as if he was to blame for Tike's death somehow. Neither of them said a word. Stanno got the message loud and clear, and promptly let go of the tent flap and backed away. Honward, meanwhile, turned back around and returned to his memories. While the young sergeant kept himself in seclusion, Stanno huffed as he walked through the swamp to a clearing beside one of the pits. He wiped sweat off his face, only to grimace when he unintentionally smeared more mud and grit against his forehead. So the hare wiped his forehead with his arm, unaware that the sweat on his face spread the filth around his arm too. Stanno swore quietly as he looked down at his body. His tan tunic was now a dark shade of brown, with dried-up blood and other disgusting particles bleeding into the fabric. Lifting each footpaw up, Stanno noticed that some of the toes on his right footpaw had blisters, while his left footpaw was sore and partially red from walking so long. Not helping matters was that his soles were currently soaking in a pile of rancid sludge that nearly went above his Achilles tendons.

"Fuck it anyway," he grumbled as he resumed walking.

Stanno reunited with a group of hares all gathered around beside the bog, each one carrying a large bottle of wine or cordial. One of the hares looked up at Stanno and blinked.

"Hon ain't comin'?"

"No. We'll just let him be."

Morson glared at his brother and scowled. "We 'let him be' for a few days now! When another group of vermin attack us, we just gonna 'let him be' then too?"

Stanno shrugged. "Maybe that's wot he wants."

Much to Stanno's surprise, Morson didn't keep going. He sniffled and took a long swing from his bottle before wiping his mouth off. Stanno gazed at the other hares around him and could see that none of them looked any better. Even though Morson and Chigra wore red coats, Stanno could see the blood stains that had dried up and were staining their medals. Everybeast's fur was just as muddy and filthy as his; Stanno thought he saw a few dead insects clinging to Morson's body. Hollis' white coat was at least five different colors now, and Stanno could hardly tell how much of his clothing hadn't been stained. Majors Dytack and Harley stank so badly that he thought he was sitting next to Lakler, only to realize that Lakler was sitting furthest away from him, scraping wax and dead flies out of his left ear. On any normal day, a scene like this would've disgusted him. He would've been dying to take a bath, to cleanse his mouth with water and mint leaves, to rest his footpaws in cool water. Then Stanno looked around the swamp and noticed it was sunny still. Strange insects buzzed or hopped around nonchalantly, and moss continued to cover the trees. He shook his head and chuckled.

"Wow."

Sergeant Chigra shrugged. "Wot?"

Stanno slowly played with his bottle of wine, rotating the bottle multiple times between his paws. He looked at everybeast's filthy footpaws soaking in the muck before noticing that some of the logs or stumps the hares sat on had moss growing on them.

"When did this become normal fer us? Wotever happened to…to thinkin' about goin' home to our families? Y'know, or-or carin' about hygiene, not getting an infection 'round our footpaws?"

"That sounds like whinin' ta me, Sarn't, wot!" Morson said.

"It's not whinin'," Stanno growled. "It…today's sunny. It-it-it's bright out. This swamp is lively with critters. It's like the world is still functionin' normally; it's like the world keeps spinnin', no matter wot we go through, wot!"

Major Dytack looked at Stanno before he took a long swig of his wine. He waited until the sweet and tart fluids ran down his gullet before he wiped his mouth. Dytack looked down at his green jacket with a yellow trim before he cleared his throat.

"World _does_ keep spinnin', mate. S'how it works; you know that."

"So…wot? We just keep spinnin' too?"

Morson spat on the ground. "We sure as shit don't stop and wallow in our misery, wot! We get the fuck up an' do somethin' if we run into a problem!"

Stanno pinched the bridge of his nose. "Somebeast explain to my brother wot I'm talkin' about."

Major Harley wiggled her small nose before she reached down and scratched around her thighs. She looked at the patches of mud and sweat that had built up around her light blue coat with medals on it. Then the gray hare rubbed her right ear and sniffed.

"Can't follow ya, Stanno. That's how the world works. Couple nights ago, we lost Tike, Jadden, and six other soldiers. Right now, in some far-off island or country, lotsa innocent beasts are bein' set on fire. Li'l babes are comin' out their mum's cunts, cryin' and movin' their li'l arms. Leverets are learnin' to work in the fields. Grown beasts are travelin', hopin' to find new recipes fer their meals. Some ol' fart just croaked. 'Notha ol' fart just shat himself 'cos he don't know how ta void his bowels properly anymore."

The hare lifted a paw before she started to create an invisible circle with her index finger, twirling it around over and over again.

"S'all it is, mate. Nothin' special, nothin' to get worked up over. Ain't no say in wot happens or why. It just does. Some days it's good. Some days it ain't. Why get hung up on it?"

"I just…" Stanno stopped for a moment and looked down. "There has to be more t'life than this."

Major Harley shook her head. "No. This is how it works. Look around ya, mate. D'you see vermin everywhere?"

"No."

"D'you see bloodthirsty beasts tryin' ta murder us?"

"No."

"No. You don't. All ya see are a buncha soldiers in the nastiest place this side of the country sharin' some drinks. Despite all the shit we've been through, we're still capable of relaxin'. That right there's a fuckin' miracle."

"Hmph. I guess it is."

"So wot's the problem, Stanno?"

He couldn't answer. Multiple pairs of eyes glared at the young sergeant, waiting for some kind of answer that would put them all at ease or explain why Stanno was feeling discontent with the current situation. Several answers burned in Stanno's mind, and he felt like blurting any one of them out just so everybeast would stop looking at him. But in the end, he just gently shook his head and murmured, "I dunno." Nobeast else pushed Stanno further; even Morson seemed more concerned over the delicious bottle of wine in his paws. Both Langroves lifted their bottles up and took long sips, swallowing the intoxicating beverage with huge gulps. As the hares sat, Lakler took note of an immense insect buzzing just above the bog. He smirked to himself as he gazed at the murky environment around him and thought back to his years as a leveret. Regardless of what Stanno thought, he couldn't help but agree with Harley.

"Oi, cuid be worse mate, wot! Least that Angus fella is burnin' up in 'Ellgates now!"

The dirty hare snickered before he drank some wine and exhaled. "That'd be a nice way ta go though, dont'cha think?"

Chigra looked at Lakler and sniffed. "Hmm?"

"Since we're all talkin' 'bout death 'n' shit, ah wouldnae mind dyin' with mah cock shoved up sum otter's 'ole, wot! Hehe, Elonv got lucky! Cheeky blighta got off 'fore 'e got snuffed! Prolly didnae feel a thing either!"

Lakler turned and grinned at Chigra. "Sure yah want sum hare's cunt 'tween yer teeth, aye?"

Chigra raised a finger, and then she blinked and rubbed her chin. Harley huffed.

"Are we really debating this?"

"SHH! …Awright then. Err…I'd like ta die…heh, yes, Lakler, it'd be nice knowin' the last thing I did was rubbin' my cunt against another hare 'fore we both came. And, uh…then after that, we got attacked by vermin—we're still naked, by the way—an' I end up takin' an arrow meant fer her. And my lover would start cryin', but I'd tell her it's all okay, and I'd die knowin' she made it through wotever skirmish we were in just fine."

"Aww, one o' them romanticists ah see!" Lakler teased.

"Fuck off." Chigra turned and looked at Harley. "Wot about you?"

Harley sighed and rolled her eyes. "Don't wanna see it comin'. Wanna know I died without seein' or hearin' it."

"Tch! That's borin', Harley!"

Harley stammered. "I'm sure I'm not the only one thinkin' that, wot! How 'bout you, Dytack? You wanna die _knowin'_ it's gonna be a long, drawn-out execution?"

The major shook his head. "Fuck no! Jus' sneak up behind me an' slit my throat! Keep it short an' simple."

Lieutenant Hollis looked at everybeast else in the circle and exhaled. "S'pose I'm next. I…I wanna die—"

He couldn't finish before Morson held up a paw and interrupted him. "OOP! DON'T TELL US! Ya wanna die holdin' the line! Ya wanna sacrifice yer fat body knowin' ya saved as many beasts as ya could! I got that right, Stink Mouth?"

Hollis scowled at Morson. "Fine, arsehole. How d'you wanna die then?"

Morson chuckled. "Easy!" The hare clicked his tongue as he pressed his fist against the center of his forehead. "Wanna get my brains bashed out. That way, figured when I'm in the Dark Forest, my brain'll be so fucked up, I won't remember this life and I'll have a fresh set of memories to build, wot!"

Hollis frowned. "That's…oddly specific."

Morson scoffed before drinking more wine. "Wot? D'you wanna go into the afterlife with 'fond' memories of all the shit we've done under Urthquake's rule? Whole purpose of the Dark Forest is eternal happiness or some shit. Thinkin' 'bout the Long Patrol just makes me angry, wot!"

"Don't you get happy when yer angry?"

Morson chuckled. "An' that there is the conundrum!"

Stanno still hadn't said much and was keeping quiet as he listened to everybeast's preferred methods of death. Lakler eventually turned and faced Stanno before he finished up his bottle of wine.

"So. Wot 'bout yah, Stanno?"

The sergeant shrugged. "Don't really matter, does it? Jus' 'cos we _want_ to die a certain way don't mean it'll happen. D'ya really believe Tike wanted to die like _that_? D'you really think he wanted us to bury his mangled body in the middle of a fetid pool of sludge?"

"Ah ain't askin' that, am ah? Ah'm jus' askin' how yah would prefer t'die, when the time comes."

Hot breath came from Stanno's mouth as he shut his eyes and rubbed his forehead. Stanno shook his head and sucked on his teeth for a brief moment. "With my family, awright? Besides Kaleb and…and Telsa. I don't wanna die before 'em, thinkin' I left 'em all alone ta fend for themselves. Don't want them to die before me either; I-I can't think about that. I just…I don't want to die—or live for that matter—with them thinking I left them behind, or that I failed to protect them."

"That's kinda selfish mate."

Stanno huffed. "How the fuck is that selfish?"

"Well, it is, wot! Yah basically sayin' that, if yer family dies 'fore you, you wuid kill y'self _immediately_ jus' t'join 'em. But if yah die first, you wuid allow somebeast else tah deprive them o' their current life 'cos ye need 'em tah join ya in the afterlife. Isn't Kaleb only nine o' ten seasons old?"

"That ain't selfish," Stanno snarled. "That makes common sense. Dyin' is better'n seein' all the shit we've seen. An' how d'you expect my family to survive in all this shit without me to protect them?!"

Stanno yowled when Morson punched him in his right shoulder so hard he almost left a bruise. The older leporid snorted and spat on the ground.

"Gee, I dunno, Stanno. With yer older siblings' assistance, maybe?" he barked.

Glaring, Stanno frowned as he looked at Morson. "How the fuck are you an' Fren gonna protect my family when you two are always out here?"

"How the fuck are _you_ gonna protect _your_ family when _you_ are always out here?"

Silence ensued. It seemed as though Stanno was standing right in front of everybeast, completely naked and exposed. Embarrassment wasn't exactly the right word to describe what he was feeling. Shame didn't seem to fit either. But after hearing what Morson said, he felt like everything he had done since spring began hadn't helped anybeast. Kaleb was once again waiting impatiently for his father to come home, Telsa was praying for her husband to come home still breathing, and still mostly intact, and Stanno himself was gradually losing his mind and struggling not to be overwhelmed with depression again. He turned away from Morson slowly before he looked down at his bottle and noticed that it was empty. Suddenly he was wondering if this was a good idea. All he wanted was to drink his troubles away and mellow out his fellow blood brothers. But now everybeast was sitting here lamenting about death and recent problems once again. Nobeast was sure what to say afterwards, and Lakler in particular knew he shouldn't have brought up the question in the first place. He looked down at his empty bottle of wine and tossed it aside.

"Hell with it—ah-ah got sum seaweed grog! Real strong stuff ah tells ya! Heh, y'all want some?"

Everybeast accepted Lakler's offer, whether or not they even liked the taste of grog. Stanno dropped his bottle on the ground and shook his head. Maybe all this alcohol won't make things better, he thought.

But it sure as hell will put me to sleep.

* * *

By the time the sun had set, everybeast was inebriated and unconscious, or they were busy throwing up or trying to keep themselves from wandering over into one of the bottomless bogs. There still wasn't any word or sign from Lady Sesslyn or any other members of the Red Sand tribe. The amount of toads and lizards everybeast saw around the swamp seemed to be growing, but everytime they approached them, they ran off or nonchalantly walked past them, posing no threat. It seemed to matter little now; nobeast would be dumb enough to risk rescuing one lone Red Sand vermin after they all saw what Urthquake was capable of. The hares who weren't sick, drunk, or on patrol looking for vermin spying on them were trying to enjoy the serene night. Even with the muggy air clouding the swamp, the area was relatively safe. Several hares were able to void themselves without having to look over their shoulders, and some hares even passed out from exhaustion and woke up without discovering somebeast had tried to attack them. A few members in the Long Patrol thought all the silence was a mere prelude for some upcoming battle. But hares like Becker and Lillen enjoyed the moment while it lasted.

Both of them were sitting down beside a thick tree with oddly-shaped, spotted mushrooms growing around the roots. Becker moved his paw down and tried to reach for some, but Lillen quickly slapped his paw and scowled at him.

"Don't think about it. Half the beasts here are sick as it is! D'you really wanna get the trots too?"

Becker exhaled and rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll eat the bland white bread by its lonesome then, with no precious additives to give it more flavour, wot!"

Lillen chuckled as she observed Becker stuffing the white slice of bread into his mouth whole, mumbling and chewing on it gently. After he swallowed, Becker exhaled and stretched his legs out, watching as the small fire in front of him kept crackling and warming his footpaws. Lillen lay down against the hare, resting her head on his plump gut and listening to his stomach as it digested all the bread and other food he ate. Crickets chirped several yards away, and Lillen heard an amphibian croaking near one of the pools of sludge, but otherwise, the duo was alone. Becker looked down at Lillen and sighed as he rubbed the side of her head, massaging it gently and scratching along her right ear. She felt something stirring within her body, and yet she knew what she was feeling couldn't be genuine. It wasn't possible, not with the short amount of time the two had spent with each other. Lillen shut her eyes and huffed as she sat up and rubbed her head.

"Okay…no. This-this has just been nagging me for over a week now."

"Wot has?"

"This. Us. Wot-wot we're doin'."

Becker raised an eyebrow. "Erm…wot exactly are we doin'?"

"I'm gonna ask you somethin'…and…an' I-I know it's out there, an' I know it's random, but after wot we've been doin', it's just better if I know."

Becker blinked. "Okay. Ask."

Lillen rubbed her left arm self-consciously, and then blurted it out. "Why haven't you tried to fuck me yet?"

At that moment, both of them knew it would've been better if they had stayed silent and relaxed beside the fire. Lillen turned away, trying not to blush, while Becker stammered and scratched his scalp.

"Um…di-did you want us—"

"NO! I'm just—"

"I mean, yeah, we've been close, but—d'you seriously think I was gonna fuck you?"

"Yes? …No? I-I dunno! Oh for fuck's sake." Lillen covered her eyes with her paws and shook her head, her ears flopping. "Just forget I asked! Never mind!"

"No! I—" Becker stammered. "Lillen, look. It's…how should I put this. Um…that doesn't…fuckin' you is not high on my priority list."

Lillen slowly lowered her paws, her face a light shade of red. "Oh," was all she could say.

"Why would you think we'd fuck each other?"

Lillen huffed. "'Cos…beasts like you always see beasts like me as fresh meat. 'Cos I've been through this before, Beck."

"So, wot? You thought I'd put you in the same position Ozgin were in?"

"I'm sayin' I wouldn't be surprised if you did. I'm sayin' that I was…I _was_ in Ozgin's position once before. With my last mate." Lillen sighed and shook her head. "We were real friendly with one another. We didn't know why; we just were. He asked me to marry him. I did. Then we started fuckin' a lot. Then he…got greedy. And, well…shit happened," Lillen said, not wanting to go into detail.

With a nod, Becker said, "And you thought I'd be like yore ex."

"It's not just that. We've both had feelings for each other, but I don't know wot it means. I thought, after wot happened to Tike, you'd say, 'Fuck it. We could be dead come tomorrow! Let's savour the moment!' or some shit like that. Lotta soldiers do that."

Becker paused for a moment, and the hares let the conversation soak in for a moment before he continued. "Maybe I haven't fucked ya 'cos I have too much respect for ya. Maybe I haven't fucked you 'cos I don't want to take advantage of you during a moment of stress, or while yore suffering some kind of crisis. D'you think about that?"

"Hmm…I s'pose that makes sense."

"Even if I did have _those_ feelings for you, sex isn't…um. How can I explain this…"

"You don't want to substitute me for Saron."

"Okay, first off, nobeast will _ever_ substitute Captain Bairty. Second of all? We. Did not. Fuck. Each other. End of story."

"Okay, sorry!" Lillen said, taking note of Becker's indignation. "So you have a mate back home, like Stanno."

Becker shook his head. "Not married."

Lillen's ears twitched. "O-oh. Um, you're into males?"

"No, not at all!"

"I mean, I'm fine with that. I don't really care wot gender somebeast is that they have sex with."

"I'm not into males, Lillen."

"I'm jus' sayin', wot! If yer into males that's fine! It's not like I haven't seen any females I haven't briefly considered—"

"Are you finished?" Becker snarled.

"Yeah, yeah, I-I'll shut up now."

Becker grunted as he wiped dirt from under his eyes. "It's easy to describe really. Sex…sex is precious, Lill. It's not somethin' I like doin' over an' over an' over again. Think I've only fucked somebeast, err…" Becker held out a paw and counted on his fingers. "Three times my entire life. An' that's just fine. Sex is like cake, Lill."

Lillen blinked and lowered her eyebrows. "That's an apt comparison."

"Let me finish. If'n ya eat cake every single day, then the cake isn't special no more, wot! It's not a valuable dessert you yearn for; it's not rare or magnificent anymore. It's just a kind of food you eat. All the time. It's commonplace, and therefore bland. Sex and masturbating is exactly the same way. It's indescribable the first time you do it. But if ya do it over and over again, or on a daily basis, then…" Becker shrugged. "It's not special. It goes from bein' sex to just fuckin'. It's a chore. Beasts obsess over rubbin' and grindin' their cocks an' cunts together so damn much that they treat it like…like they _need_ to do it to survive."

"Well, havin' sex is the only way to have a babe, Beck."

"No, that's reproduction, not sex; that's not the same thing. You can masturbate and ejaculate onto some female's cunt and you may get the same result. But, me? …I don't hate sex. But I don't obsess over it. I had sex before three times. I enjoyed it. And that's it."

Becker took a deep breath after explaining himself and looked at Lillen. "So no, Lill. I have no desire to fuck you. Or anybeast, for that matter."

Relief washed over Lillen, although she still felt deeply self-conscious for bringing up the question to begin with. The duo stayed silent for a moment again until their embarrassment faded. Then Becker smiled as he rubbed between Lillen's ears.

"I do have feelings for you though. Not-nothing sexual, like I said. But wot we're feelin' ain't out the ordinary, wot! I suppose with me, I'm just tired of seein' beasts as young as you constantly throwin' yer lives away. Ozgin, Jadden, Tike…they were all like you, an' they're dead now. Honward's a mess, I doubt Stanno is doin' much better; all you beasts have full lives ta live, an' yer puttin' it in danger just by bein' here."

"…I see. An' I s'pose that makes more sense than you tryin' to fuck me fer no reason. But we both know you can't protect us 'leverets' forever, Beck."

"All I want is to die knowin' I didn't outlive beasts who were half my age. It's too late fer beasts like me and Saron, but that don't mean there aren't other beasts I can't gravitate towards. Don't mean I can't at least try and ensure a beast like you reaches my age."

Lillen nodded and exhaled. "Right."

The young hare leaned back down and rested her head on Becker's stomach, feeling the pudge rise and fall each time Becker inhaled and exhaled. She couldn't help but chuckle after having the awkward conversation with the captain.

"We just lost eight hares an' my primary concern is whether or not you wanted to fuck me."

"Yeah, well. Grief makes beasts do…unorthodox things."

Lillen smirked. "No shit."

* * *

"Just a few minutes, M'lord. You can give me that much."

Floswirth glared up at the tall badger clad in his scratched, dented, muddy blue armor. He glared down at the galloper with his arms folded and a scowl on his face. But it was late in the night, and he was tired and frustrated. Floswirth already knew how the Badger Lord would respond, regardless of how he felt. Grumbling, the badger lowered his arms and gestured towards the wounded weasel.

"Fine. After that, we're done with her."

Floswirth nodded and walked over to where Dersky was sitting. With their supplies running low, nobeast bothered to patch up her wound any further. As a result, it had gotten infected and was gradually spreading throughout her body. The weasel panted a few times and shivered; the pain in her leg had gotten so bad that it was almost numb now. The dark brown hare stared at Dersky before she wiggled her nose. Insects were starting to crawl over to the weasel's septic leg; she watched as Dersky kicked at them, longing to keep them away from the wound. For a brief moment, she thought about killing her. It'd save everybeast the trouble; she'd be dead soon anyway. If the infection didn't kill her, everybeast else's impatience over keeping her alive would. But taking the easy, simple route wasn't the proper way for Dersky and her cohorts. Floswirth sat in front of Dersky and snorted.

"Nobeast will come for you. You will die here. And soon," she said flatly.

Dersky chuckled weakly. "Aren't-aren't you quite the optimist."

"No. Just a realist. That's why I know you'll be dyin' here."

"Hmm. An' wot makes you so sure?"

"'Cos yer a tool. A weapon. A thing. That's all you'll ever be. An' that's how tools an' weapons work. You use 'em when you need 'em. If you lose 'em or misplace 'em," Floswirth shrugged. "Eh. Get a new one. If you break it, or it gets stolen," Floswirth shrugged again. "Eh. Get a new one."

Exasperated, Dersky huffed and shook her head. "So then, by default, you must be a tool or weapon yerself."

"Oh, I know. But I'm complacent with it. See, my whole life all I saw were beasts who wanted something from me, wanted me ta do something for them. Parents gave birth to me to preserve the family name. My brother protected me from bullies so he could justify stealing my food. My former lover fucked me 'cos I was the only cunt-licker she could confide in without feelin' ashamed. And now I'm in the Long Patrol 'cos innocent beasts can't stand up for themselves, and they require beasts like me to kill beasts like you."

With a slow shake of her head, Dersky rolled her eyes. "Jus' skip to the overall point of this sad li'l tale of yers."

"Yer friend, Angus Renhym—"

"Angus was _not_ my friend. I woulda killed 'im myself if you beasts hadn't done it for me."

Floswirth blinked and continued. "Corporal Tike Bonson was one of the many hares Angus killed. Which, y'know, shouldn't have bothered me. Lost a lotta hares lately. Ain't no biggie. S'how life goes, right?"

Dersky nodded. "Aye."

Floswirth paused, and then she awkwardly scratched behind her left ear. "This hare…Corporal Bonson…I-I remember one day where…yes. It was in the fall. I was sharpening my weapons by myself. Then Tike saw wot I was doing. And he shouted with joy and sprinted right up to me. Tike saw my dagger—this one right here," Floswirth said, unsheathing the weapon, "and he said, 'That's not fair! You gallopers and runners get the stealthy, silent shit while we're stuck with the borin' swords 'n' shit, wot!' And just like that, we started talkin' about daggers and knives and other weapons. And then he started talkin' about craftin', an' that he thought about bein' a blacksmith. Hell, I even got him into usin' throwin' knives as a side weapon."

Floswirth shook her head. "We talked for over an hour. An' it wasn't even about weapons. It was about other, menial shit beasts wouldn't care about. Tike…Tike came to _me_ , of all beasts, and sparked a conversation like it was nothin'. Nobeast forced him, told 'im to do it, an' he didn't do it outta pity. He did it 'cos he _wanted_ to. And I was…I couldn't comprehend it. This hare I didn't know, never talked to, jus' came up to me and we talked like we were best mates. I kept wondering, 'How? How can a beast like this seem so jovial and chatty around a stranger'?"

Wetness suddenly spread around Floswirth's cheeks. She didn't even realize a few tears had run down her face until she noticed that her vision had become blurry. The hare exhaled and shut her eyes, trying to blink them away.

"That was Tike Bonson. He was a hare who _did_ care, who _was_ special, who _had_ a gift. I-I thought…for a brief moment, I really thought that _I_ was special too; he-he made me feel like I was more than just a tool. ...You vermin took him away from us. And now that he's gone, it all makes sense."

Dersky blinked. "Wot makes sense?"

"It didn't matter how special, how benevolent, how gifted Tike Bonson was. He was an extraordinary _tool_. He stood out from the rest, yes. But that didn't change _wot_ he was. At the end of the day, you could be the biggest, most magnificent tool or specially crafted weapon in the whole world."

Floswirth let out a noise that was a cross between a sob and a laugh. She shrugged. "Yer still jus' a fuckin' _thing_ that can be replaced. Soon enough…Tike Bonson will jus' be another name scribbled on a memorial wall. An' I'm sure a buncha corporals will replace him."

It was still frustrating for Dersky to understand the purpose behind this conversation. "Why ya tellin' me this?"

"'Cos you need to know _why_ these hares are gonna rape you until yer cunt is raw an' bloody."

Just like that, Floswirth went from nearly sobbing to nonchalantly wiping her face and returning to her stoic demeanor.

"You know that's wot'll happen. They're gonna rape you. Multiple times. You may fight back, but if ya do, they'll break another limb. And they'll continue to ignore that infection of yours. When they get bored of fuckin' ya, they'll torture ya. And this'll keep on goin' until you die. An' nobeast will give a damn, not even your so-called allies. Because, like it or not, you're just a tool too."

Floswirth scowled as she glared at Dersky. "A useless, old, filthy, _tool_."

There was no need to say anything else. Floswirth exhaled as she stood up and started to walk away from the weasel. But before she was out of hearing range, Dersky snickered and glared at her.

"S'real easy fer ya 'goodbeasts' to demonize us. Ye all walk around, tell other beasts of yer kind that we're smelly, scary monsters in the closet. But let's face it: you jus' need to justify why alla you 'goodbeasts' do all the bad shit you do."

Floswirth stopped walking and turned around. She opened her mouth to say something, but Dersky interrupted her.

"Lookit you. Smell yerself right now. I had friends too, y'know. I had vermin I cared very deeply for back in Tearmann. And you hares killed a lotta 'em. One of 'em was pregnant. One of 'em jus' lost her virginity. Another beast I was very close to. She tried to kill herself a couple years ago, d'ye know that? But _I_ helped her. _I_ saved her. And then you…"

Dersky huffed and rolled her eyes. "Right. I'm a weasel! I'm a 'bloodthirsty monster.' You don't care 'bout my life. Hmph…that twat Angus murdered this corporal of yers; you all murdered him in retribution. And now all you 'goodbeasts' are gonna rape and torture me 'cos…wot? Yer upset? 'Cos ya think takin' all yer frustration out on me will make ya feel better? Hehehe, yer no different from us. Jus' as filthy as us, jus' as smelly, jus' as bloodthirsty. Only difference 'tween you an' me? You got them big ol' ears, an' I don't."

Dersky huffed. "You say yer complacent in bein' a tool? Well, I'm complacent in believin' that there's no such thing as a 'good' beast. There's just beasts. We're animals, pure an' simple. There's no rhyme or reason fer why we act the way we do. This jus' _is_."

The weasel grinned widely at Floswirth before winking at her. "Accept it, long-ears. It'll make yer life a whoooooole lot easier."

It was hard to think of anything else to say to the weasel, so Floswirth just snorted and continued to walk away. After she left, Urthquake stepped towards Dersky and growled at her. She looked up at the dirty, burly beast and scoffed.

"Wot? Ye gonna lecture me too?"

Urthquake responded by stomping on Dersky's shattered leg. The weasel howled in agony as the pain amplified, and the blood started to ooze from the wound once more. As Dersky started shuddering and inhaling sharply, Urthquake growled again and pressed his oversized footpaw against Dersky's other leg.

"No more lectures. Just pain."


	18. Between the Thighs

**XLII**

 **Between the Thighs**

Neither of them said a word to each other. At least, one of them tried not to—the other one was constantly trying to figure out ways to antagonize the other beast inside the tree hollow. Benrath stood still as he listened to the rain pouring outside, the water thumping against the tree. He peeked outside once to see if the two other beasts had returned yet, but they were still gone. When he drew his head back, the shrew grunted as the fox chucked another pebble at his head. He drew no attention to him, knowing full well how beasts like Darktail acted. He'll get his one day, Ben murmured to himself. Nevertheless, the fox didn't let up, and he threw another pebble at Benrath's face.

"Oi, tubby! Ya ain't gonna join yer friends outside? Not like you smell better'n the rest of us."

He still paid no attention to the fox, and kept leaning against the wood waiting for Tegast and Grustur to return. But even when he ignored the fox, he kept antagonizing him by pelting him with more tiny, bothersome objects.

"So…your father ever, y'know. Let you 'experiment' with that cock of yours? Y'know, he ever let you discover what it felt like ta fuck somebeast on your own accord?"

Benrath flicked his eyes at Darktail, and immediately regretted his decision. Darktail wagged his long, fluffy tail and walked over to the shrew.

"Mmmm…musta been hard, keepin' that shaft locked inna cage, only lettin' your father—err, sorry, Slaine, fuck you in the arse. D'you ever fuck beasts in the arse? Willingly?"

Now Benrath couldn't keep silent. He glared at the vulpine, and even in the darkness, he could faintly make out the fox's smug grin even though there was only one torch lit inside the tree. He could've easily punched all of his teeth out, but Benrath was already vaulting far past ordinary anger.

"I mean, there's a lotta beasts out there with big rumps! Wouldn't be surprised if you, y'know, couldn't 'control' yourself. 'Tis only natural! We're all beasts! Ain't no shame—"

Opening his paw, Benrath reached down and grabbed Darktail's crotch. Darktail's eyes widened. He stammered and looked down, surprised to see what Benrath was doing. He shoved his arm away, but Benrath immediately grabbed his groin again, clutching it even harder than before. Darktail grunted twice as the shrew continued to squeeze, and then the chubby shrew pinned the fox against the bark.

"H-hey, I was only fuck—GAH!"

"My fa…" Benrath huffed. " _Slaine_ taught me many things. Things I ain't too proud of. Things nobeast as young as I were shoulda learned. But I do know that…"

Darktail whimpered when Benrath moved his paw up and grabbed the waistband of the fox's trousers. Then he slid his paw down, and he started grabbing Darktail's bare penis and testicles. Squeezing, Benrath started to scowl, feeling the fuzzy copulatory organs.

"That these 'things' down 'ere? All about dominance. Now, this ain't a small pair ya got, but it ain't big. Mine's bigger, believe it or not. And, uh, I sure as shite don't see ya usin' this shaft fer fuckin'. Don't think I saw ya stick yore cock into a single beast since we've met. Never even caught ya strokin'. An' fer somebeast as old as ye, ya let some eighteen-season-old shrew subdue you so easily…"

Benrath squeezed harder. "Slaine would…he-he told me I _had_ to use this. I told 'im no, o'er an' o'er again. One day, when I were pissin', he came right be'ind me an' grabbed me cock. Told me if'n I didn't use it, he'd tear it right off. So tell me, Darktail. Why do ye deserve this? Why shouldn't I go on an' rip it right off?"

"Let go," Darktail demanded, with a faint whimper in his voice.

"Tell me," Benrath growled, "or it's comin' off."

"I said let go! Please…please stop."

He didn't listen. Benrath squeezed even harder, to a point where the fox let out a high-pitched squeal.

"PLEASE!"

Ben stared at the fox's panicked face and smirked. "Since you said 'please'…"

Darktail gasped and collapsed to the ground after the shrew let go. He panted and groaned as he lied in the fetal position, grabbing his crotch as he tried to recover from the pain. Ben stood silently as he looked at the fox constantly moaning. Another minute went by, and then Tegast and Grustur rushed into the tree, their fur and clothing dripping wet. Tegast panted as he shook himself and set his soggy clothes down while Grustur started to wring his trousers out.

"Weren't a bath, but hey. Least we got all that muck offa us. You two gon'…wot's up with him?"

Ben blinked and stared at the rat and watervole. "Does it matter?"

"Mm. S'pose not. He ain't dead, so that's good enough."

Benrath slowly walked behind Darktail after he finally stopped moaning and crouched down. He stared at the fox's bottom before he scoffed and shook his head. Yer lucky I ain't Slaine, Ben said to himself.

* * *

Mumbling and smacking ensued as the four beasts stared at the thrush in front of them. The bird was swallowing the pies so vigorously that they were beginning to wonder if the bird would choke. Ilyan swallowed a large slice of the pastry before he exhaled and nodded, waiting for more. Tegast tossed another slice of the plum pecan pie into the thrush's mouth before he smiled, happy to know that he and the other beasts were lucky enough to find somebeast kind enough to make the pie for them during their travels.

"MMF! Oh, so wonderful!" Ilyan paused to belch. "Such a wonderful treat for Ilyan! Thank you ground beasts—Ilyan thought you'd betray Ilyan, use Ilyan for food!"

"The thought crossed our minds," Darktail murmured.

Grustur elbowed Darktail roughly before he stepped forward and talked to the bird. "So we're all in the clear? Those lizards don't know a thing about where we're goin'?"

Ilyan shook his head. "Ilyan 'tweak' truth, just as smelly rat said! Nasty lizards and shrews are nowhere near you—nowhere near ground beasts!"

Tegast finally sighed with relief and rubbed his forehead. "That's wonderful."

"Now, Ilyan must go! Lizards and shrews need Ilyan for spying!"

Tegast lowered his paw and raised his eyebrow. "Wot for? You already told 'em where we're goin'."

"Different reason! New reasons, smelly rat! Impending attack underway!"

That alerted the rat. "Wot attack?"

"Errr, 'Cunt Haven.' S'wot Log-a-Log called it anyway."

Benrath huffed. "Shit…there's a shelter fer females near the river. An' if there's one thing Slaine hates, it's females."

Ilyan nodded. "Ilyan should return. Nasty lizards and shrews grow suspicious of Ilyan if he doesn't!"

The four beasts watched as Ilyan spread his wings and took flight once again. It wasn't until after the bird was away that everybeast on the ground had a discussion with one another.

"No," Grustur said firmly.

Tegast scowled at the vole. "I didn't even say—"

"No, I know. But I also know what yer thinkin'. No. We're trying to get _away_ from the lizards, remember? We just got out of Shit's Creek; you seriously wanna get yer footpaws dirty again?"

Tegast smirked. "I'm a rat. Since when do us rats got clean footpaws? 'Sides, all I was gonna do was ask Ben how many troops they got there."

Ben shrugged. "Last I remember, 'round twoscore. Been about a season since I were last there. Could be double that."

"Fourscore beasts against Log-a-Log's _entire_ Guosim? Not to mention all those fuckin' monitor lizards?"

"Fuckin' hell," Darktail said. "They're gonna get slaughtered!"

Everybeast turned and looked at Darktail with bewilderment. Darktail shrugged.

"What?"

"Err, you _want_ to go save this shelter? _You_ , Darktail?"

"Tch!" the fox scoffed, waving his paw. "I wanna get my cock wet is what I want! _Eighty_ females all grouped together in one box? They've prob'ly been in heat all season!"

"There be _males_ in this shelter too," Ben pointed out.

"That's even better—there's prolly some cocksuckers runnin' 'round for you to fuck too! We go to this shelter, we warn 'em about this attack, kill a couple lizards, then they thank us properly by suckin' all our cocks! Sounds wonderful to me!"

"Oh, fer fuck's sake," said Grustur rolling his eyes.

Tegast growled. "Grus, we've already talked—"

"Hey, hey, shush, pup. I got this," said Darktail.

Darktail walked over to the watervole and flicked him on the back of his head. After he grunted and turned around, both beasts scowled at each other.

"Lookit fuck-stick, this is the best decision and you know it. Yer arse is too much of a coward to realize it, so you wanna keep runnin' an' hidin'. We just landed on a fuckin' treasure cove an' you wanna turn it away?"

"How d'you know it ain't some trap? How d'you know Ilyan wasn't lying?"

"If Ilyan was lyin', then that means Log-a-Log's shrews are headin' in our direction, and we're fucked either way."

"But—"

"SHH!" said Darktail, holding up a paw. "We'll make it simple, kay? Pup, you wanna go?"

"Absolutely."

Darktail nodded. "Fat arse, you wanna go?"

"If Slaine is gon' be there, I may have another opportunity t'kill him. So yeah, I wanna go."

"And I wanna go get my cock wet, and this is the first opportunity that landed at my footpaws. So I wanna go. It's three against one, fuck-stick!"

"But you don't—"

"SSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHH—shush. Shut up."

Grustur huffed and folded his arms. Darktail glared at the watervole and smirked.

"Safety in numbers. Ain't that some kind of sayin'? Think about it: if we go to this shelter, we'll save innocent beasts. That'll satisfy that pup's naïve optimism and his 'moral compass' or whatever the fuck's goin' on with him. I'm sure some of them females there will be…heh, y'know, a bit 'heated' after battle and will promptly want to thank me, the wise and glorious Darktail, for savin' them all! And fat arse over there will prob'ly find his father leading the assault. From what he's told us, nothing would please him more than to send him to Hellgates."

"So what about me?"

"I said strength in numbers. Even if you are a loner, we can't keep runnin' from all these lizards—not the four of us. We just can't. So, for now, let's round up some allies! I sure as hell feel safer if this group was forty beasts instead of four. Wouldn't you? 'Sides, given how perilous this forest is, I wouldn't be surprised if half the beasts who come with us end up dyin' along the way anyway."

Darktail's grin grew. "It's a win-win situation for everybeast, even you. Are you _really_ gonna say no to this?"

Sometimes he found the other three beasts frustrating, despite knowing that without them, he'd be dead by now. Part of Grustur was considering leaving everybeast else and going on his own again, like he did before. But pragmatism got in the way, as it usually did. So the watervole exhaled and nodded.

"All right. Let's go check out this shelter."

* * *

As the four beasts got closer to the river, the sky slowly began to clear. The sun was still blocked by all the clouds, but it didn't look or smell like it was about to rain again and the downpour from last night left very few muddy puddles. Everybeast walked forward meticulously, trying their best not to make any noise as they left their prints in the ground. Darktail's left ear twitched a few times, and the fox found himself slowing down. He blinked twice and ignored the sound, daydreaming about what would happen once he arrived at the shelter. His lips curved, showing off another malicious and lustful smile, up until his ears twitched at another mysterious noise.

"Whoa whoa, hold up."

Everybeast stopped walking and looked at the vulpine. "Wot?" Tegast asked.

Ears still twitching, Darktail stuck his muzzle into the air and sniffed three times. He scowled before lowering his head and grumbling.

"C'mon, we're taking a detour. Let's cut over here to the river."

"That 'ole section o' the woods is full of thorny bushes, prolly some beehives too," said Ben.

"Couple pricks in our fur won't kill us. Whatever's up ahead will. Follow me."

The three beasts were surprised at Darktail's sudden change, but they followed him nonetheless. All four beasts wandered through the forest for a few more minutes, their footpaws splashing in muddy puddles and their hides brushing against a few thorny bushes. As Benrath predicted, they spotted a huge beehive dangling from one of the trees up ahead, but only a few bees were actually spotted around it. Darktail thought he saw a large glob of honey dangling from the bottom of the hive, but he quickly grumbled and told himself to ignore it, not wanting to spend the rest of the day with a bunch of bee stings on his body. The crew was walking down a sudden incline when Darktail sniffed the air again and his ears twitched. He paused and gestured for the other three beasts to wait.

"Y'smell that?"

Teg shrugged. "It ain't lizards or shrews s'far as I can tell."

"Yeah, well, that don't mean there ain't a buncha rapists out here either. Don't lower your guard now, pup."

Tegast kept his mouth shut and followed Darktail as the fox proceeded forward with caution. He didn't have to walk very far before he saw the shadow of two beasts out in the distance. Darktail advanced slowly, crouching down as he noticed the shadows moving around accompanied with somebeast chatting a low, deep voice. The four beasts noticed a queer, musky odor that none of them had smelled before; the beasts all took out their weapons as they walked closer to the two shadows.

"It's two against four! You may as well come out now and surrender!"

One of the beasts hiding behind a bush stood up, his head magically appearing from behind the thick leaves. Tegast glared at the beast with confusion; he couldn't make out what species he was. His eyes were tiny, and his muzzle was wide and long, with a dark lump resting on the top of his muzzle just behind his nostrils.

"Oi, Wullur! Git yore trousers back on; seems loik we got guests!"

As the other beast behind the bush swore and shuffled with his trousers, the long-muzzled beast smiled as he walked out into the open, revealing himself. He was shirtless, only clad in a pair of bright red trousers that were held up with two straps of fabric that looped over the beast's shoulders. Tegast kept examining the beast, taking note of the beast's webbed, three-toed footpaws and the four fingers on his paws. The burly beast was so fat that his gut was bulging over his trousers; if it weren't for the bracers, they'd fall right down to the ground. When the beast opened his mouth to speak, Tegast saw giant incisors on his upper and lower mandible.

"Li'l wornin' moighta been noice mate! We ain't fans o' bein' interrupted!"

The other beast stood up from the bush and exhaled as he smoothed out his fur. "Relax, Clolyn. Oi'm done anyway."

Darktail looked at the other three beasts before he gazed at the strange looking beasts standing by the bush. Clolyn chuckled as he rubbed his gut and walked up to Darktail.

"Been a woile since we spotted 'notha group a' beasts loik ya! Where ya come from?"

Darktail blenched from the chubby creature's mouth and groaned. "None of yer damn business."

"Clolyn, 'member wot oi told ya 'bout personal space! Ain't nobeast wanna smell yore garlic breath!"

Clolyn chuckled and took a few steps back before he scratched his tiny left ear. "Sorry 'bout that!"

Tegast stepped over to Clolyn and studied the creature a few more times, shortly before he walked around and stared at the creature's behind. He had no tail, and his unkempt fur was thick and greasy.

"Huh…I'm guessin' Northlander, right? Teg asked.

Clolyn turned around and chuckled as he looked down at the rat. "That's roight! Sounds loik yer one too!"

Tegast nodded. "Wot exactly is a capybara doin' down here in Mossflower?"

Clolyn looked down at the rat before he turned and saw Grustur, Benrath, and Darktail. "Wot's a rat loik you doin' with a group loik this?"

Before Tegast could answer, he turned around and saw Wullur walk out into the open. He wasn't as fat as Clolyn, but he was burly and his stomach was bulging over his trousers too. Like Clolyn, Wullur didn't wear anything except for a pair of trousers, albeit his were green. Wullur grunted as he scratched his groin while Tegast looked at the creature's pointed ears, short muzzle, and the long claws on his paws and footpaws.

"I'm just surprised that a capybara and a wombat from the Northlands are down here in Mossflower."

"We got business down 'ere, same as ya an' yer li'l gang 'ere," Wullur replied.

Tegast backed away from Clolyn and stood beside Darktail while Benrath exhaled. "You two workin' with Log-a-Log?"

"No," Clolyn replied.

"Wot about a buncha fat-tailed lizards?"

"No."

Benrath grumbled. "Have you seen any shrews lately? Or any lizards?"

Wullur answered this time. "We were both sleepin' up 'til Clolyn 'ere started gropin' me cock! Guess he really wonted sum seed."

Clolyn snickered at the wombat and nudged him while Darktail rolled his eyes and exhaled. Benrath ignored the two and pointed up ahead.

"We're headin' to some settlement further down these woods. Wanna join us?"

Wullur shrugged as he bent down and picked up a bow and a quiver filled with arrows. Then he bent down and picked up a massive war hammer with a head as big as Tegast's. He tossed it over to Clolyn, who chuckled and spun the weapon in his paws a few times.

"Sure. Bettin' they got lotsa food!"

"Fine, let's go. Sonner we get there, the better."

After the four beasts talked to Wullur and Clolyn, Tegast and Darktail looked around the area and sniffed again.

"Are you two _sure_ you didn't see any lizards?"

"Aye lad!" said Wullur. "From the look o' things, we'd prolly smell 'em fer we saw 'em!"

Tegast nodded as he continued to move forward. And then he yelped when he stumbled over a body and nearly fell on his face. Panting, the rat turned around and looked at the body his toe claws got caught on. He crouched down and inspected the creature's green scales and huffed.

"Sonuvabitch," he grumbled. "D'you two kill this?"

"Why? Were 'e a cousin o' yores?" Clolyn joked.

Wullur elbowed the capybara in his gut. "Aye. Been seein' lotta them snakes 'round 'ere; it ain't matin' season, last oi checked."

Tegast huffed and sprang to his footpaws. "We have to go now! They're scouts; those lizards are prob'ly nearby or they're there already!"

Darktail huffed. "If they were in trouble, wouldn't we be hearin' bloodthirsty screams by now?"

Benrath flicked his eyes at Darktail. Then he stomped of his left footpaw so hard that he nearly bruised his toes. Darktail yowled in pain and started whimpering and hopping on his right footpaw.

"Does that count?" asked Ben smugly.

* * *

There was a plethora of fascinating installations and buildings to examine at the shelter, along with a diverse set of beasts who all contributed in their own way somehow. A windmill was turning slowly at the sturdy, metal gate, there were guards stationed on the walls—two stoats clad in armor for each corner—there was a nursery where pregnant females could have their babes, and even a small enclosed building where beasts could have sessions of therapy or discuss their current grievances. None of that was important. What was important were all the guards on the walls and the set of crossbows that were lying unguarded by the wall for some reason. The obese shrew scratched his chin as he counted how many beasts were able to defend themselves. Most of the males were the ones carrying weapons, but plenty of females looked well-built and were fit for a fight if push came to shove. He even spotted a few young otters playing with wooden swords in a training area. The corpulent shrew scratched his chin, moments before he slowly headed over to the crossbows and started to examine them. He picked one up and grunted as he started fiddling with the contraption.

"What're ya doing?"

The shrew flicked his eyes at the otter and chuckled. "Ahhhhh, jus' checkin' yer arsenal mate! Got a good set o' bows 'ere!"

The otter blinked and wiggled her whiskers. "Yes, they are."

The shrew changed the subject. "Wot's yore name mate?"

"Gabby. I'm guessin' you're Log-a-Log."

Log-a-Log chortled. "Wot gave it away?"

"Ash told me you 'surprised' her with a visit. Said yer still a fat arse whose breath stinks of shrewbeer."

Log-a-Log changed the subject again after rubbing his chin. "Wot's yore role 'ere at this camp?"

"Why do you wanna know?"

"Why does me knowledge of wot you do bother you?"

"Why do you keep askin' me these forwarding questions?"

Log-a-Log snorted. "Okay, okay, obviously we've got off on the wrong paw 'ere! Let's start o'er!"

Gabby shook her head. "I think we're done here."

The black-furred otter sniffled as she started to walk away from the shrew. Before she gained any distance, Log-a-Log grabbed her left arm and snarled.

"You watch yer mouth ya fuckin' cunt."

Gabby glared at the shrew and smiled. "There it is. I heard some rumours 'bout yer…'issue' with us. So tell me: what exactly are you doin' here at this _female_ camp actin' all chummy around a _female_ like Ash?"

"That ain't yore fuckin' business."

"But it's your business to know about our weapons. Because that makes sense."

The two beasts stared at each other for a moment. Then a wide, leering grin appeared on Log-a-Log's face, and he slowly let go of Gabby's arm. He chuckled at her before nodding and walking backwards.

"Be seein' ya, Gabby," he said scornfully.

Before the otter had a chance to say anything else, he turned around and walked across the shelter, ignoring all the playful leverets and pups and shoving any of the adult beasts out of his way. He spotted Ash leaning against a wooden post and talking to two other rabbits, the three beasts laughing to themselves as they drank cordial. Log-a-Log nonchalantly walked up to the reddish-brown weasel and jabbed her in the arm.

"Oi, Ash! Mind if'n we chat for a bit?"

Ash looked at the shrew and nodded. "Aye, sure. We'll talk more later," she added, facing the rabbits.

After the rabbits nodded and walked away, Ash took a long drink of her blackberry cordial and wiped her mouth off. "Gotta say, I were a bit shocked seein' you today! No announcement or anything; you just showed up at our gates!"

Log-a-Log laughed. "Oh, ya know me! I just wanted to see how much progress ye made with this shelter!"

"Slaine, the last time you came here, it was so you could stuff yer bloody stomach. Wot d'you want this time?"

"To help you!"

Ash raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Oh, yes indeedy! Y'see, right now, there's a 'ole buncha nasty, vile lizards ready to storm into this shelter so they can rape alla you and eat anybeast to fuel their fat tummies!"

It was impossible for her to believe something so abrupt and ludicrous. Ash merely shook her head and chuckled before sipping more cordial.

"Mm-hmm. Still got that humour I see."

"There's 'bout two hundred. Got spears an' pikes, swords, bows 'n' arrows, all that shit. Most o' 'em monitor lizards, but they got a lotta snakes as sentries. Pretty big reptiles leadin' the assault; smaller ones in the back, some iguanas and salamanders and skinks—"

"Are you fuckin' kidding me?" Ash snarled.

"No, they got skinks with 'em! Rare, eh?"

Ash tossed her bottle down and reached for her dagger. Log-a-Log grinned.

"Ehhhhhhhh, don't do that."

"How the fuck would you know about all these reptiles unless you brought them here?!"

"'Cos I _did_ bring 'em here! I had no choice! These foul creatures came to me doorstep, runnin' around abusin' me precious, precious Guosim crew! I needed help."

"And your first thought was to come to a shelter _filled with young beasts_?!"

Log-a-Log shrugged. "If ye wanna look at it that way, sure."

"Fuckin' cocksucker."

A giggle rose from the shrew's throat before he bent down and picked up the bottle of cordial. He smirked at Ash. "Yes. But that's why ye all love me."

After quaffing the rest of the fruity beverage, Log-a-Log swallowed hard and sighed. "You c'n either kill me where I stand, or I can 'elp you fend off these foul beasts an' we'll both get rid of this bothersome flea hoppin' 'round in our fur."

Ash was seething with rage and fear at this point. She wanted to kill the pudgy beast where he stood, but then she'd have no idea where the lizards would attack or what their overall strategy was. And as much as she hated him, one more beast wielding a sword in her favor would mean fewer casualties. The weasel huffed as she kept gripping her dagger, while Log-a-Log simply flared his nostrils.

"Yore call."

* * *

Tegast and Grustur were leading up the front, panting as they trampled their way through various bushes and maneuvered around the trees and fallen logs. They ran for a good two minutes before flaring their nostrils and slowing down. Grustur scrunched up his face while Tegast immediately took out his dagger and let hot breath flow from his maw. He looked around the woods, determined to discover where the scaly beasts were hiding.

"Think we're too late?" Grus asked.

"No. We woulda heard screams by now. Jus' gotta keep movin'—"

The young rat shrieked when an arrow whizzed by his face so fast that it nearly took off his whiskers. He stumbled and collapsed beside a tree just as a monitor lizard hopped out the bushes and snarled. Grustur shouted as he raised his dagger and started jabbing at the beast who was only carrying a small knife. He plunged the blade into her throat before two skinks threw themselves on top of the watervole. Neither of them were armed and were more concerned about ripping the flesh right off Grustur's body; one of them bit his ear, while the other was going for his neck. Grustur screamed as one slowly tried to tear off his ear, but he managed to stab the other one several times in the abdomen before hurling his body to the ground. The other skink mysteriously fell off his body and landed with a huge thud. The vole turned and saw that the skink had an arrow in his head, and Wullur was holding his bow.

"DROP!"

Grustur fell to his belly and listened to two arrows slicing through the air. Meaty _thwacks_ filled his ears, followed by the sounds of two bodies tumbling through a series of leaves and tree branches. The wombat smirked as he lowered his bow and looked at the fallen lizards.

"These the nasty buggas?"

Tegast groaned as he sat up, his head throbbing after banging it against the tree. "Yeah, that's them."

Clolyn chortled and wiped his mouth. "This it mate? These a buncha twigs wif' scales on 'em! We can handle 'em!"

"There's _hundreds_ of 'em! Prob'ly thousands! Don't underestimate them jus' 'cos—"

Another arrow whizzed by, nearly taking off Darktail's whiskers this time. He swore and fell to the ground, moments before everybeast heard incessant roaring and saw at least a dozen monitor lizards appear from behind trees and bushes. They all swarmed together and sprinted for Tegast and his group, all frothing at the mouths and holding various weapons. Clolyn and Wullur stood at the front, blocking the other four beasts with their huge bodies. The wombat fired another arrow between an iguana's eyes whilst Clolyn roared and swung his hammer, whacking two skinks in their chests so hard that he shattered their ribcages. Darktail stuck by Benrath—mostly to use his body as a shield—and only used his dagger when somebeast was on top of him. He gurgled and groaned as an iguana pinned him to a tree and choked him violently, only for Darktail to spit in his eyes. The reptile was blinded long enough for the fox to wiggle out of his grasp, at which point he drove his blade into the reptile's throat. Tegast and Grustur took on three beasts at once, panting and weaving out of the beasts' slashing swords and using the environment to their advantage.

One lizard swung at Tegast; the rat ducked and listened to the sword as it buried itself into a tree. Tegast swiftly stabbed the lizard in the chest and gut before he turned and repeatedly tugged at the sword himself. He didn't have time to free it from the bark before another lizard pounced on him. She hissed loudly and was going to stab him, and then Teg was blinded when blood gushed from her throat. The dying lizard clutched her bleeding throat while Tegast shoved her body off, surprised to see that Darktail was the one who slit her gullet.

"Thanks."

"Six is bigger than five," Darktail snarled.

Benrath took care of the last lizard, stabbing him repeatedly in the stomach with his rapier before stealing the lizard's cutlass and disemboweling him. The shrew watched as the lizard collapsed to his knees, gurgling and leaking blood, fat, and part of his organs all over the grass.

"Is Log-a-Log at the shelter? Is he at the fuckin' shelter?!" he demanded.

The lizard spluttered and coughed up blood before nodding, and then he listed over. Benrath huffed a few times before he looked back at the other five beasts.

"Y'all good?"

Teg checked his body for wounds before looking at Grustur and nodding. "We're good."

Clolyn chuckled as he shook some blood off his war hammer, while Wullur was busy checking to see how many arrows he had left. "Still got a guid numbah o' shafts. Oi'm awroight!"

"Fine. Let's get goin'!"

Darktail brushed some dirt off his clothes before he bent over and picked up one of the lizards' cutlasses. "We got a plan or somethin'?"

The capybara punched Darktail in the shoulder and snickered. "All that plannin' shit's a waste o' time! Lot more fun goin' in half-cocked!"

Benrath huffed as he looked at the others. "Jus' make sure you only kill the lizards. If we run into any shrews that ain't Slaine, don't kill 'em."

"How do we know your precious Log-a-Log ain't warped their minds?" Darktail asked.

"They're jus' followin' orders. They ain't sadists like these lizards an' Slaine. I kill Slaine and explain wot he's been doin', they back off. Everybeast is happy."

"So you expect us—"

"Do not. Kill them," Benrath growled.

Darktail folded his arms and huffed. "Fine."

"Good. Let's hurry!"

* * *

Log-a-Log blinked as he paced back and forth, glaring at all of the soldiers taking position at the southern side of the shelter. All the guards had their arrows aimed out into the woods while most of the elderly and young beasts were hiding in fortified buildings. Ash was equipped with her dagger in one paw and cutlass in the other, constantly flicking her eyes back and forth between the fortified wall and the fat shrew. She snorted at him before listening to a few of the guards chatting amongst themselves.

"Calm down, everybeast. We know where they're comin' from; all we gotta do is show a bit of force and they'll leave us alone."

She turned and glared at Log-a-Log again. "Ain't that right?"

The shrew nodded. "Most definitely! They're all cowards really; buncha scaly, foul-smelling, craven beasts!"

The weasel was about to say something else when she swore she heard a few clangs and the sound of footpaws trotting on the soil and grass. She rushed up to the wall once more and looked over the side, curious to see if the lizards were nearby yet. But when she peered over the barrier, the biggest "enemy" she saw was a small bird hopping from various tree branches in the distance. Ash huffed as she stepped from the walls and came up to Log-a-Log again.

"Where are they, Slaine?" she snarled. "You said the south—"

She was dead before she hit the ground. Log-a-Log yelped and backed away after spotting the arrow that had mysteriously went through her temple. Then the shrew turned to his right and saw them. The lizards were breaching the compound, having taken the north wall instead of the south. Some of the lizards were already aiming for the guards, while one of the skinks was sprinting for the barred door. Two beasts screamed after spotting Ash's body, and then somebeast hollered that a skink was opening the door. The black otter Log-a-Log spoke to earlier fired an arrow at the tiny reptile, but not before he removed the giant hunk of wood that sealed the door. The double-doors swung open seconds later and the lizards stormed inside, almost as though thousands of bacteria were infiltrating a beast's body through a miniscule cut.

"Fuckers," Log-a-Log murmured.

The beasts in the shelter weren't going to win—not that Log-a-Log cared about them. But Krassak wouldn't suffer heavy casualties either, much to his annoyance. Knowing Ash's troops would lose, Log-a-Log took out his rapier and joined the vile reptiles again. Despite hating them all, he took much joy in fighting off Ash's guards and the innocent beasts in the shelter. Some young voles barely older than Benrath tried fighting him off with their swords. He just smirked at them and ran them through with his rapier. Two mice tried escaping, desperately climbing up one of the walls, but Log-a-Log took two huge stones and chucked them at the mice's heads. He watched as they both fell from the wall and broke their backs on the ground. A small smirk appeared on his face as a horde of lizards sprinted to their bodies and tore them apart with their serrated teeth. As Log-a-Log gazed around the shelter again, he could already see that half the beasts inside were dead already. Some were still fighting back, but even he knew that there was no way they would be able to win.

"SLAINE!"

He hadn't noticed because he was too busy enjoying the carnage. Somewhere in the mob of reptiles, a small group of beasts snuck in through the same door. When Log-a-Log turned to look, he saw two ugly beasts slaying lizards with little effort; one had a war hammer, the other a bow and arrow. A rat, watervole, and fox were teamed up with them too, using their survival instincts to aid them in battle. And then he saw him: the precious, chubby shrew he raised, no longer wearing his headband. Log-a-Log grinned widely. He almost wanted to push him down and sodomize him right then and there. It had been such a long time since he had sex with somebeast as young as him.

"SLAINE!" he hollered again.

"Ben! Me grown, beautiful pup! Ye've come back ta daddy!"

Log-a-Log shouted when Ben swung his rapier at him. He nearly dropped his weapon; Ben smacked his sword against his so hard it jolted his wrist. He swore softly and started to back away, blocking all of Ben's attacks. Log-a-Log breathed calmly and gripped his weapon as he stared at his sweaty son, listening to him snarl as hot breath exploded from his mouth. Both of them were large beasts, but even Log-a-Log knew he wasn't fit to fight Ben when he was enraged—not when he had been abusing his body with so much alcohol and food. Already the corpulent shrew could feel his heart racing, and he was panting and struggling to catch his breath. No matter, Log-a-Log murmured to himself. An angry beast is more idiotic than a tired one.

"Smells like ye ain't bathed in a while! S'good; I like it when yore all ripe!"

"SHUT UP!"

Log-a-Log shouted when Ben's rapier nicked his side, tearing through his clothing and piercing part of his flesh. He panted and backed away again, stepping over a log. He kicked it Ben's way, but the younger shrew hopped over it and struck again. He backed Log-a-Log all the way up to one of the buildings and roared as he thrust his rapier forward. Effortlessly, Log-a-Log sidled out the way, and the weapon emitted a faint _thunk_ as it pierced the wood. Benrath grunted as he started to wedge it out, while Log-a-Log snorted.

"Ain't stroked in a while, son! Me balls are _swollen_ ; kept 'em warm jus' fer you!"

Benrath didn't utter any words. He just hollered and lunged for Log-a-Log, grabbing him by the throat with his bare paws. Log-a-Log quickly head-butted him, causing blood to erupt from his nose. Ben coughed and shook his head before he balled his left paw into a fist and punched Log-a-Log in the eye so hard he nearly shattered his eye socket. The Chieftain shouted and staggered, nearly dropping his rapier, only for Ben to punch him again, this time knocking him to the ground. Then he kicked Log-a-Log in the crotch, and Log-a-Log shouted as his swollen testicles were damaged. That's it, Log-a-Log thought. Keep going. He lied on the ground, grasping his crotch in pain, until Benrath roared and stomped on his groin again. The impact was nearly the same as having somebeast strike him in the crotch with a hammer. He was hoping nothing down there had broken, especially not when his "loving son" was back. Log-a-Log continued to moan and writhe around in pain, just as Ben walked back to the building and finally wrenched his rapier free. He snarled as he prepared to kill his former caretaker.

And then Log-a-Log grabbed a pawful of dirt and threw it in Ben's face. He shouted as the soil irritated his eyes, shortly before Log-a-Log reached backwards and grabbed one of the crossbows he saw earlier, firing an arrow into Ben's abdomen. Ben grunted and fell, dropping his rapier in the process. He lied on the ground bleeding, whilst Log-a-Log got up and walked over to him. He snickered wickedly as he hovered over Ben and got on all fours.

"Oh yes…I did well raisin' ye, son! I did so well…"

Log-a-Log bent down and pressed his moist lips against Ben's, filling his mouth with sticky saliva and hot, foul breath. Ben shouted as he shoved Log-a-Log's face away, and then groaned as he tried to reach for his rapier.

"Ye've got me so excited, son! C'mon…right here. While everybeast is watchin'! It'll be fun!"

"No," Ben whimpered, sounding like a babe again.

Log-a-Log didn't care. He panted in Ben's face as he fidgeted with his kilt, reaching down and grabbing his nether regions. "Fresh supply o' milk right here, son! You'd better drink it now 'fore it gets—"

"NO!"

Before Log-a-Log had time to get his trousers down, Ben grabbed a stone nearby and bashed it against Log-a-Log's temple. The corpulent shrew shouted as he collapsed to the ground, at which point Benrath screamed and promptly got on top of him again. He smacked the rock against Log-a-Log's face, damaging his left eye in the process, before breaking his nose. Then he snarled and bashed the stone across his mouth, cracking a couple of his teeth. Log-a-Log could see that he underestimated Ben's wrath, and immediately reached up and jerked the arrow from his abdomen. Ben moaned and gasped as blood started to drip from his midriff, only to groan when he was stabbed with the same arrow again. Wounded, Ben collapsed to his knees, and then grunted when Log-a-Log shoved Ben down onto the soil. Log-a-Log gritted his teeth and spat out some blood, shortly before he started to pant and crawl away from Ben with blood dripping from his face.

"Get…get back here! GET BACK HERE!"

Ben shrieked as he got back to his footpaws, only to wheeze and cough up blood, the adrenaline gradually leaving his body. He wasn't concerned about the other beasts in the shelter and was seemingly oblivious to the vast amount of reptiles who had already killed or captured the residents of the compound. Benrath whimpered as he tried to walk over to Log-a-Log, who had disappeared behind one of the tents.

"Oi, Ben! We gotta go; there's too many o' 'em!"

Ben flicked his eyes back and saw the capybara running towards him. Benrath snarled and ignored him, dragging his footpaws forward with teary eyes.

"He's right there!"

"'Nutha time, Ben!"

"HE'S RIGHT FUCKIN' THERE! I HAVE TO KILL HIM!" Ben bellowed as tears ran down his face.

Clolyn looked at the lizards in the shelter aiming at him with their bows and spears.

"BEN!"

"I HAVE TO KILL HIM! I HAVE—"

Clolyn punched Ben in the back of the head so hard he lost consciousness. After he fell to the ground, the capybara grunted and hauled the wounded shrew over his right shoulder. Then he ran towards the exit and regrouped with Tegast and the others, panting and yelping whenever he was nearly hit with a flying arrow or spear.

* * *

Tegast and the other animals stopped running once they realized they were clear of their pursuers. The young rat took a huge breath and leaned against a tree with sweat trickling down his face. Clolyn grunted as he slowly set Benrath down whilst Wullur looked inside his quiver and frowned. Darktail was busy looking at his body and double-checking to make sure he was still okay.

"Everybeast awroight?" Wullur asked.

Clolyn shook his head. "Shrew got gutted real guid! Any a' ya a medic?"

The capybara looked up at the otter, mouse, and mink who were rescued from the shelter, all of whom still looked traumatized after the siege.

"Um…I-I'm not a doctor, but I kinda studied patchin' up injuries—"

"Guid 'nuff. Stop the bleedin' an' try ta seal 'is wounds," Clolyn ordered.

The mink nodded and crouched down so he could look at Benrath's wounds. As everybeast caught their breath and counted all the supplies they had, Tegast looked at the three survivors and exhaled.

"Is this all?"

Darktail scowled. "The fuck's that mean?"

"I mean," Tegast paused and huffed. "Are-are you the only three who made it out?"

The mouse looked at Tegast, her paws still shaking. She wiped some blood off her cheek before shuddering. "I think so…some others tried to get out but…they were just everywhere…"

"There wasn't enough time," the otter added. "Not like it's yer fault. They ambushed us."

"Fuck," snarled Tegast.

Wullur blinked and looked at the rat. "They only six o' us, pup. They 'ad _at least_ a hundred lizards wif' 'em. Wot d'you _think_ were gun' 'appen? We'd rescue errybeast an' we'd be all fine an' dandy?"

"I just thought—"

"Thinkin' ain't the same as wot actually happens!"

The mouse stepped towards the two and sniffed. "What matters is you saved _us_ …and one of you was wounded in the process. We're very—"

"In our debt. We're—you're gonna give us some reward, yeah?" asked Darktail.

The mouse scowled. "I was gonna say grateful. For everything the five of you did for us."

"There's six o' us," Wullur corrected.

The otter counted everybeast in Tegast's group and blinked. "I'm countin' five."

Tegast's eyes widened. He looked around the woods and started to breathe heavily.

"Where's Grustur?"

* * *

Fucker, thought Log-a-Log. The shrew limped around the shelter rolling his tongue around his mouth. Something inside cracked and the shrew exhaled. He spat on the ground, grimacing when he saw the tooth fragment simmering in a small patch of blood. While he was busy checking his wounds, he looked up and saw Krassak strolling inside the shelter, counting all the dead beasts and the creatures they were holding prisoner. Log-a-Log stomped to the lizard and exhaled.

"I told ye to attack the _south_ side, Krassak."

The lizard hissed and stuck out his tongue. "Hmm. I heard north."

"I clearly said south."

"Oh. Well. From what we zaw, all the guardz were patrolling the _zouth_ section of thiz zhelter! Z'far az I could tell, I woulda lozt a lot more lizardz if we went with your attack method. Lucky uz, huh?"

Log-a-Log feigned a smile and nodded. "Indeed. Lucky you."

The two leaders put their hatred of each other aside for a moment and examined all the hostages they captured who were on their knees. There were at least a dozen of them, some of whom were already wounded. The others were exhausted and were getting their paws tied behind their backs. Log-a-Log noticed a familiar black otter wearing a ratty blue tunic and smirked at her.

"Oh. Ain't got shite t'say now, do ya?"

Gabby looked up at Log-a-Log and scowled at him, but she didn't open her mouth for fear of the lizards maiming or killing her for speaking out. Log-a-Log kept looking at the prisoners before he spotted somebeast he didn't recognize from before.

"Who's this? I didn't see him workin' with Ash."

Grustur looked up at Log-a-Log before looking back down at the ground, trying his best not to piddle his trousers. One of the iguanas tying rope behind his paws stood up and examined him.

"Dunno. Looks like an ol' straggler. Only had a dagger on 'im. You wanna kill 'im?"

Log-a-Log shook his head. "No. Let him live. Leave 'em all alive. I'm sure we'll find use for 'em somehow. Ain't that right, Krassak?"

Grustur flicked his eyes over at Krassak Ralfur and his multifarious army of reptiles. He couldn't see Tegast or any other ally around; nobeast could help him at this point, unless he managed to figure out a way to free the prisoners. But even if he did, the chances of him escaping from so many reptiles was borderline impossible. He closed his eyes and murmured to himself.

"Fuck."


End file.
